


The One Thing (I Can't Get Enough Of)

by akaparalian



Series: Malec Week 2018 [7]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dirty Dancing Fusion, Alternate Universe - Real World, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, Fluff, High School Musical References, M/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akaparalian/pseuds/akaparalian
Summary: Alec wasn't expecting to enjoy this summer locked away with his family at a posh resort in the Catskills, just biding his time until he can go home in the fall and then finally, finally move out and escape to college. He was expecting to alternate between bored out of his mind and frustrated with his father's heavy-handed attempts to set him up with Aline, whose parents own the resort, as a last-ditch attempt to pretend Alec didn't come out six months prior.Enter Magnus Bane.OR: a Dirty Dancing AU.





	1. I've Been Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> We have, regretfully, arrived at the last day of Malec Week 2018. Today's prompt was "Summer Holiday," and so I have delivered to you this: a Dirty Dancing AU. Funny story, I actually hadn't seen Dirty Dancing until a little more than 24 hours ago? I was familiar with the basic plot (mostly from a fic in a different fandom, actually), which is how I got the idea, but I figured I should actually watch the movie before I wrote this story. 
> 
> ...except I kept putting off watching the movie, and so I had to keep putting off writing the story, and, well. Here we are.
> 
> I've been writing like crazy trying to get this whole thing done for today, but I'm admitting defeat. I wanted to go ahead and get as much of this posted today as I could, since I know it's starting to get late on the east coast as I type. The rest will be coming hopefully in the next couple of days, so watch this space! But for now, enjoy. <3
> 
> Title and chapter titles are from "(I've Had) The Time of My Life," because duh.

The hotel, he was pretty sure, had been his father’s idea. He was the one who really knew the Penhallows, who kept talking about how it would be so nice to see Jia and Patrick and, especially, Aline, who Alec and Izzy hadn’t seen since they were small. All the rest of it, the vacation itself, the idea of spending one last summer together all as a family before Alec went off to school, the idea of reconnecting as a family after Max’s funeral the previous winter — that was all his mom.

Well, whatever, he thought as he somewhat dubiously heaved his suitcase out of the car and towards the little bungalow where they’d be staying. Here they were. No use dwelling on how they got here, when he’d be stuck here no matter what.

So maybe he was a _little_ bitter. Maybe he’d rolled his eyes every _single_ time his father mentioned ‘family togetherness,’ as though Alec and Izzy didn’t know about his affair. Maybe he’d found his — and, for that matter, their mother’s, too — proclamations about ‘spending a whole summer together’ incredibly empty, given that they’d both brought plenty of work with them. Maybe he’d been looking forward, so desperately, to finally, finally, _finally_ getting out of their stifling Manhattan brownstone in the fall, finally having a chance to be just a little bit apart from everything they were expecting him to be, everything he knew he _couldn’t_ be, and now he was terrified that he’d stumble at the final hurdle, that this summer locked in close proximity to his parents at this stupidly quaint resort would finally do him in.

Or maybe he was just tired from the car ride. It wasn’t that far from the city to the Catskills, but still.

—

The stupid dance class was Izzy’s doing.

Nothing _else_ about the vacation had been, at least not yet, but as soon as Alec had put his bags down, she was pulling him out the door.

“Hurry,” she muttered. “If we get out before Mom and Dad get done unpacking, we won’t be subjected to small talk with their friends.”

She presented a very valid argument, but did it really have to end up with the two of them in some sort of group dance class? Alec wasn’t uncomfortable in or with his body; he took good care of himself, he was in great shape, and he’d always been somewhat naturally athletic. But he was good at other things — archery, his hobby since he was small, and running, and sometimes boxing with Jace, which apparently was a bi-weekly requirement according to some kind of best friend code that Jace had made up when they were sixteen. Not _dancing_.

They were, allegedly, learning the merengue; it wasn’t exactly challenging. Really, they were just switching their weight from foot to foot, over and over again, and Alec had managed not to step on Izzy’s toes so far, so it wasn’t as though he felt like he was really _bad_ at it, it was just — this was something that was so far outside his comfort zone. His hips didn’t want to move like this, everything felt stiff and a little disjointed, and he was incredibly aware that he probably looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Feel the music and follow the beat!” the instructor, a young woman with dark hair and olive skin, was calling. That sounded like a bunch of bullshit if you asked Alec, but no one _did_ ask Alec. Izzy was too busy being actually graceful and good at dancing, and everyone else in the room, besides the instructor and the two of them, was at least fifty. One of the older ladies gave him a lascivious wink when he accidentally caught her eye, and he felt himself flush as he looked desperately down at the ground, which didn’t exactly help his dancing.

“You’re doing good, Alec,” Izzy said, grinning and flipping her hair over her shoulder as the song they’d been dancing to came to an end. “You just need to loosen up a little, that’s all.”

Alec rolled his eyes. Right. Like he’d never heard _that_ one from her before.

“Isabelle! Alec!”

They both turned at once as an unfamiliar voice called out from across the room. Some of the other guests turned, too, but most were too busy starting up the next dance.

Jia Penhallow was crossing the room towards them. She was a vaguely recognizable figure, mostly because he’d seen her many times in photographs taken back when he and Izzy were children and would play with her daughter, Aline. She had black hair, streaked through with silver, and warm, dark eyes; she looked friendly enough, but she was bringing Robert Lightwood with her, so Alec wasn’t necessarily inclined to feel fuzzy feelings.

“It’s so good to see you both!” she said when she reached them, opening her arms in an offer of a hug that only Izzy took her up on. “It’s been far too long, look at you, all grown up. And I see you’ve already been busy exploring.”

“There’s so much to do!” Izzy agreed, smiling demurely in a way that told Alec that, though she was much better at hiding it, she didn’t actually want to be having this conversation all that much more than he did. 

“So much that you couldn’t have come with your mother and I to greet our hosts?” Robert broke in, and Alec tensed. He tried to keep his expression neutral as his father’s gaze focused in on him. “I was especially hoping you’d have gone to say hello to Aline. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to seeing her.”

He was addressing both of his children in theory, but even without the weight of Robert’s gaze bearing down on him, Alec would have known what his father was doing. He wondered, briefly and bitterly, if he had thought it was subtle, the way he’d worked Aline into every conversation about this place, the way he’d emphasized that she and Alec could _catch up_ and _get to know each other better_. He wondered if Jia, still smiling at him and Izzy, was in on it too, if she knew why Robert had wanted to reconnect with her and her family. 

“I’m sure we’ll see her later,” Alec said, and resigned himself to counting down the days until he could leave, until this summer was fucking _over_.

Jia and Robert didn’t stay long after that, thankfully. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from the rest of your class!” Jia said, already stepping away. “Dot is an excellent teacher, I’m sure you’ll both learn a lot from her.” Alec didn’t bother to watch them leave, just turned back to Izzy and offered her his hand, because at least dancing was better than _that_.

Izzy took his hand and they started to move, but that didn’t quite hide the concerned look on her face. “Are you gonna be OK?” she asked softly, the words hidden under the pulse of the bright Latin music so that no one but Alec would hear them.

He shrugged. “Yeah. Fine. I mean, I’m not gonna let him, you know…” He waved a hand dismissively, which didn’t really fit the merengue. “I’m done hiding. I came out because I was _done_ , and he can try to set me up with Aline all he wants, it’s not going to change that.”

“Good.” She sounded fiercely proud, and Alec was almost shocked by the sheer amount of love and affection that shone back at him when he looked at her. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be annoying as hell, though.”

“Yeah, well, what else is new,” he muttered, snorting, and tried to focus on anything but the way his father had looked at him when he said Aline’s name.

—

God, did the people at this resort do anything _but_ dance?

“So,” Aline Penhallow was saying as he lead her reluctantly away from the dinner table, where their two families sat together, and toward the dance floor, feeling his father’s eyes uncomfortably heavy on his shoulders all the while. _Why don’t you show Aline those moves you were practicing earlier?_ Robert had said, and it hadn’t sounded much like a suggestion. God, Alec wondered for far from the the second time that day, did he think he was being _subtle?_ “Do you still do archery?”

He nodded, a bit shocked despite himself that Aline remembered something like that. He’d barely been eight the last time he saw her — her parents had moved away for a while, to Beijing, he thought, and then somewhere in Europe — and was somewhat ashamed to realize he remembered almost nothing about her. She’d been more interested in playing with Izzy, when they were kids, and he’d been more interested in reading, or else sneaking away to practice his shooting with the tiny child-sized bow he’d cherished until he’d gotten big enough for a real one.

“I do,” he said, offering her his hand in, he hoped, as non-romantic a way as possible. “I compete sometimes, even.”

“That’s cool!” Aline enthused, and the two of them started to move to the music. There was no way Alec was _actually_ going to try and do the merengue with her, for so many reasons, not the least of which was that, while he might have been more or less forced to be out here on the dance floor, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take every little opportunity to rebel from what his dad had “suggested.”

“Thanks.” They were doing a sort of awkward shuffle, not anything resembling a real dance; Aline didn’t seem to mind much, though he thought she looked vaguely amused, maybe. 

They lapsed into silence after that. Alec didn’t know if he was supposed to be responsible for continuing the conversation, but he was a little afraid to, out of fear that Aline knew just as well as he did what his father was playing at, making the two of them get up and dance like this, and she was more receptive to the idea. He didn’t want to risk looking _too_ interested; it wasn’t that she seemed like a bad person at all, she seemed fine, she’d asked about the one thing she remembered him being passionate about, but he didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. He didn’t want to give her _any_ ideas, really. So he kept silent as they shuffled awkwardly across the dancefloor, trying to pay attention to anything else instead: the music, the room, the other dancers, the — whoa.

 _Whoa_.

There was a couple in the middle of the dancefloor. They stood out, because everyone else had backed away from them a little bit, and because they were clearly about ten times as talented as anyone else there. Alec didn’t have any idea what to call the kind of dancing they were doing, other than _beautiful_ ; it was quick and fluid and captivating.

He recognized the woman, vaguely, from that afternoon: Dot, he thought Jia had called her. The dance instructor. But her partner…

He was wearing a tightly-fitted suit all in black, and he had dark hair and warm brown skin and eyes that glittered even from all the way across the crowded room. He was a bit taller than Dot, though she was in heels, and his shoulders were broad in a way that made Alec’s gut tighten, just a little. As Alec watched, the man all but _threw_ Dot away from him, and then pulled her back in a tight spin, bending her back over his arm to follow the momentum of her motion, grinning all the while. 

“Who are _they?_ ” he asked, without even realizing he was saying anything. He didn’t really realize when Aline huffed a laugh, either.

“That’s Dot and Magnus,” she explained, and Alec tore his gaze away for just a second to glance at her. “They’re our two dance instructors. I thought your dad said you went for a lesson this afternoon?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alec said, looking away again. _Magnus_. What an unusual name. “With, with Dot. Merengue.”

“Gotcha.” If he weren’t so distracted, he might have noticed how amused Aline sounded, and maybe even been a little alarmed by it. “They’re really something, huh?”

“Yeah,” Alec said, as he watched the way the shifting dance floor lights glinted off of Magnus’ hair, the way his arms moved under his jacket as he dipped Dot so low to the floor it almost seemed like he would drop her. “Yeah.”

The song ended; he jolted to a stop without even really realizing it, and finally blinked back to himself, becoming very aware very quickly that he’d been essentially ignoring Aline for the past few minutes. “Uh,” he said, even as he watched from his peripheral vision as Magnus and Dot swept into a bow and then disappeared. “Uh — sorry. What were you saying before?”

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Aline said, but she sounded good-natured about it, and she started up a conversation about what high school had been like for him and Isabelle until such time as they could return to their table without parental protest.

The rest of the night was a blur. Alec couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he couldn’t focus, couldn’t bring himself to care about following the plot of his parents’ conversation with the Penhallows. Isabelle and Aline weren’t paying attention either, but they were at least talking to each other; Alec was off in his own little world, eating somewhat mechanically and telling himself it was pretty pathetic to get _this_ much in his own head about a guy he’d seen literally once, ever, no matter how good-looking he was or how good a dancer.

When it seemed like his parents were going to linger over coffee, still swapping stories with Jia and her husband Patrick while Izzy and Aline were deeply engrossed in a conversation Alec was _pretty_ sure was about martial arts, though he hadn’t been paying enough attention to to say for certain, he stood up, mumbling something about taking a walk. When no one stopped him, he slipped away.

God, less than a day and already he felt like he was going out of his mind. Maybe that was part of why watching Magnus dance had affected him so badly; the guy was gorgeous, sure, but he was also an acute reminder of what Alec couldn’t have yet, what he couldn’t have until he was finally off on his own, away from his father’s prying eyes and ham-handed attempts to arrange relationships with eligible bachelorettes.

Aline seemed nice enough, he thought as he wound his way slowly away from the resort’s main building, where most of the dining and dancing and indoor activities took place, heading out almost aimlessly onto the grounds. The moon was just starting to rise, and Alec’s feet carried him onto a little path leading away from the lights of the resort proper and out into the woods a bit, past a pond and over a charming footbridge that crossed a small stream, until all he could hear were the soft sounds of night-time in the woods, and his mind finally started to quieten down a little bit.

Yeah, Aline seemed nice enough. He could easily see him being friends with her; she and Izzy certainly seemed to have hit it off. But there was that lingering uncertainty about what she expected from him, whether she’d interpret attempts at getting to know her as flirtation, when he couldn’t be less interested in her romantically. Better not to risk it, probably, which was unfortunate; it would have been nice to have at least _one_ more person here that he felt like he could actually enjoy talking to, besides Izzy.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts, his mind having finally calmed down, that he didn’t notice the faint thumping of music through the trees until he was already on his way towards it.

Who the hell was out here playing music that loudly with that much bass, he wondered? Who the hell was out here at all? And then he saw the sign that said “STAFF QUARTERS,” which answered one of those questions, at least.

He didn’t have more than a second to wonder why the staff quarters were so far off in the woods, away from the guests, before he heard a disconcertingly loud sound up ahead, like a heavy object being dropped onto the path.

“ _Shit!_ ” he heard someone yell, leading him to believe his conclusion about something being dropped may well have been correct. Brow furrowed, he hurried up ahead to see if he could help.

He rounded a bend in the path to find a girl about his age, maybe a little older, carrying — or trying to carry — a truly inordinate amount of alcohol. She was scowling, and still swearing, too; she’d dropped a small keg, it seemed. Alec was frankly just impressed she’d managed to avoid breaking anything, with as many bottles as she was carrying.

“Uh,” he called out, a little uncertain. “Need a hand?”

She startled and looked up at him as he continued to walk closer. Her thought process was clear as it ran across her face: she didn’t recognize him, ergo he must be a guest, ergo he was out of place here.

“You’re not supposed to be back here,” she said. “The Penhallows don’t like it.”

Alec just shrugged. He wasn’t feeling especially charitable to what the Penhallows wanted or didn’t want, or liked or didn’t like, at the moment. Which wasn’t really _their_ fault and had a lot more to do with their connection to his parents than anything else, but still.

The girl quirked an eyebrow at him, then rolled her eyes. “All right, whatever. Your funeral. Grab that and follow me.”

And she promptly walked away, leaving Alec to scoop the keg up off the ground and hurry after her.

“I’m Maia, by the way,” she said a little grudgingly, as they got closer and closer to wherever the music was coming from. Alec thought he could make out a building through the trees; there was definitely a lot of light spilling out from somewhere.

“Alec.”

“Right.” Maia was nice enough, but she didn’t seem like one of those especially chatty people who needed to fill up any and all silences, and anyway, they seemed to be getting close to their destination; it wasn’t any great hardship to let the conversation drop.

The building, as they got closer, seemed to be an old barn. There were other buildings scattered all around — bungalows, like the guest houses, but older and a bit more run-down, though certainly not horrible. Alec’s focus was on the barn, though; the doors were cracked open, and through the little sliver of light there, the closer they got, the more he caught glimpses of movement amid the pulsing lights. He didn’t recognize the music playing, but it was totally different than the relatively stodgy stuff they’d played back on the dance floor at the main house; this was loud, and fast, the kind of music he thought they probably played in nightclubs. Not that he’d ever been to a nightclub.

And then Maia shouldered the door open, and Alec felt like his whole brain shut down and then slowly rebooted.

It seemed he’d been right about the nightclub comparison; there were people packed tight in the barn, all of them young and all of them dancing. The crowd throbbed more or less in time with the music; the lights were low, and when his eyes could focus on anyone for long enough amidst the tidal wave of sensory information streaming at him all at once, Alec realized, not that it came as much of a surprise, that the dancing they were doing was _very_ different than the dancing he and Aline had been doing, or even the dancing he’d seen Magnus and Dot doing, back before.

The people here were pressed back-to-front and front-to-front and sometimes back-to-front-to-back or front-to-front-to-back, the dancing in most cases more of a filthy grind than anything else. This, Alec figured, was the reason he didn’t go to many parties: because everyone at parties, at least according to teen movies and Izzy and Jace’s stories, did things like this, danced like this. And it wasn’t that Alec thought it was gross, or weird — far from it.

He was hypnotized.

“Come on!” a voice shouted in his ear, having to work to be heard over the music. Maia. Right. 

He followed after her, setting the keg down on a table when she pointed and indicated for him to do so. His eyes were flickering all around the space, and he was sure he was blushing, could feel the heat in his cheeks and his ears. Suddenly he felt overdressed, too, in his dark collared shirt from dinner. Most everyone here was dressed for clubbing, or for a rave, or something: tight shorts, crop tops, girls in dresses that only barely protected them from public indecency. A fair number of the guys, he noted, were shirtless, chests gleaming with effort where they danced. He swallowed hard.

“Thanks for your help,” Maia yelled at him, and he blinked to break his concentration on the crowd and turned to look down at her instead. He nodded, and she smirked at him. “Go have fun! You’re here now anyway, might as well.” 

And then she disappeared; he thought he saw her sidle up to a girl with a sheet of long dark hair, but he lost sight of them almost instantly in the crowd.

He had no idea what to do. He just stood there awkwardly by the table where he and Maia had left the drinks; people would come up periodically and grab a bottle or pour a shot, and all Alec could manage was to stare out at the crowd, the music thumping under his skin, a sheet of sweat breaking out under his shirt. Without even realizing what he was doing, really, he fumbled with the buttons, until it was hanging open over the tank top he wore underneath. 

It was complete 180 from the atmosphere at dinner, the stilted formal conversation with his parents, a place where he didn’t have the freedom to do _anything_ , to here, where he knew that if he could just convince himself to move, to do _something_ , then he could have everything. He could be out there in the crowd, too, could lose himself in it, could give up all the pressure and the weight on his shoulders and just let _go_.

He didn’t, but he _could_. And that, at least, counted for something. And maybe if he stood here long enough, he’d be able to work up the courage, be able to —

For the second time last night, he caught sight of a particular man in the middle of the crowd, dancing, with a little bubble of space around him like he was too good to be touched. His breath froze in his chest.

It was Magnus, all right, but he looked almost completely different. Gone was the sharply fitting all-black suit; instead, he wore pants so tight they looked like they’d been painted on, dark and shiny and glittery, and a very thin top in a deep golden color that was completely open across his chest. He was wearing a lot more makeup now, too, Alec could tell even from here, eyeliner and something on his lips that made his mouth look red and shiny and plump. 

He was dancing alone, no partner this time, just the smooth undulating motion of his hips and, _fuck_ , those abs. Obviously he was fit, he was a dancer, Alec was well aware that was a full-body workout, but _goddamn_. His eyes were half-closed as he moved, occasionally mouthing along to the music — Alec hadn’t recognized a single song so far, but evidently Magnus didn’t have that problem. He was a vision, beautiful and achingly sexy and so clearly in his element, so visibly _powerful_.

The music swelled to a sort of crescendo, a voice that crossed a strange middle ground between human and robotic hitting a note that seemed impossibly high. Alec swallowed hard, his focus fixed absolutely on one person, one body amongst everyone else in the crowd. And from across the room, through all the people and the noise and the distraction, without warning, Magnus suddenly looked back.

They locked eyes, and everything else seemed to fade away. Alec watched as Magnus started to move, not just dancing now but weaving his way through the crowd, his shoulders swaying with the beat and his every motion sinuous, catlike. He didn’t walk, he _prowled_. But Alec didn’t fully come to terms with the fact that he was coming closer until Magnus was right in front of him.

He felt his lips part, felt his tongue dart out to wet them, felt his pulse pounding in his ears, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. All he could do was stare, his gaze slowly trailing from Magnus’ face to his neck to the curve of his collarbone.

Suddenly he was _close_ , so close, close enough to speak without yelling.

“I saw you earlier,” he said, in a tone that somehow implied that if not for the cacophony of the room around them, he’d be murmuring. “Why are you here?”

“I — I was helping, um, Maia,” Alec said, desperately wishing he knew her last name, or anything else he could use to identify her. “I — carried a keg?”

Magnus quirked a brow at him, a smirk twisting his lips. Alec could have died. ‘ _I carried a keg?’_ he thought severely. _Seriously?_ _God, he’s going to think I’m an idiot._

But if Magnus _did_ think he was an idiot, he at least didn’t say anything about it, and he didn’t leave. “I’m Magnus,” he said instead, in that same smooth voice that somehow managed to be intimate even when he was half-shouting to be heard.

“Uh — Alec.”

“Short for Alexander?”

“Yes.” Not that anyone called him that — even his parents had given up on it. It was kind of funny, actually; these days, even when his mom wanted to bust out the middle-name treatment if he’d done something to piss her off, he was ‘Alec Gideon Lightwood,’ not ‘Alexander.’ But somehow his full name on Magnus’ lips was the best thing he’d heard in a long, long time. 

“Well, Alexander,” Magnus all but drawled, and Alec realized with startled clarity that his eyes were fixed on Alec’s throat, at the hollow there where he knew sweat had to be gleaming. Then his gaze trailed up to Alec’s lips, and that wasn’t much better. “Would you like to dance?”

Alec didn’t know how. He had never in his life moved like the people in this room were moving, like _Magnus_ had been moving before he inexplicably came over to talk to him. He would look, he knew, like something terribly young and awkward and naive — a baby dear, maybe, struggling to get its legs under it, or a turtle trying to roll off of its back. But he didn’t tell Magnus any of those things.

“I’d love to,” he said instead, and when Magnus reached out for him, he took his hand. 

They went right back to where Magnus had been before, right in the center of the floor, and there was still an odd little bubble of space there, as though everyone had known that Magnus would be right back and they shouldn’t fill his spot. Magnus drew him to a stop slowly, and Alec froze, suddenly surrounded on all sides by sound and heat and motion, and unsure what to do about it, unsure what to do at all.

“Relax,” Magnus told him. He was speaking at what was probably a normal volume, but with everything else, all the other noise, it sounded like a whisper. “Just focus on the music, and on me. Can you feel it?”

It was like what Dot had said this afternoon, about feeling the beat and the music and whatever, except when it had seemed kind of silly to Alec then, now it made perfect sense. He nodded, feeling a strand of hair flop and catch across his forehead, and without even realizing what he was doing, began to sway his hips to the beat, feeling the music swell through the air all around him and seeing Magnus’ body start to move, too, just inches away.

Magnus danced like he was born to do it, like the motion was more natural to him than breathing. Alec’s gaze stayed locked on him, intense and focused, and mostly he looked at Magnus’ eyes, searching for something there — encouragement, maybe, or approval, _something_ — but every once in a while his attention would slip down and down and down, to the twist of Magnus’ hips or the way his stomach rolled, and he felt himself responding in kind, adding a little bit of rotation into his motions, leaning forward into Magnus’ space, feeling something he couldn’t describe, some sort of freedom he’d never known before but couldn’t let go of now if he tried.

“That’s it,” Magnus said, and now they were close enough that he really _might_ have been whispering. Alec could feel his breath — what an odd thought, and what an odd sensation, amid the clash and clamor of everything else, but there it was. He could feel Magnus’ breath puffing across his face, their heads leaned so close together that their foreheads were almost touching; Magnus was shorter, but not by much, and Alec curved his body into and around him, bracketing him in as the space between them got smaller and smaller.

They weren’t touching, and then they were. It happened so fast; one moment Alec was leaning forward just that little bit more, yearning for _something_ but not quite sure what, and then suddenly Magnus’ hands were burning hot on his waist, under his button-up where it was still fluttering sweat-soaked and forgotten around him, but over the thin cotton of his tank top. And as soon as he felt that touch, it was like Alec was electrified, like whatever last vestige of control he’d been holding back had been let go. He saw his hands go to settle on Magnus hips almost as though they were someone else’s, as though he wasn’t really the one being that daring, even though he wanted to, wanted to, _wanted to_.

“ _Very_ good,” Magnus purred, directly into his ear, and then with the next roll of his hips he pressed them together, and Alec gasped soundlessly. 

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking that Magnus was hard. It certainly wasn’t shocking that _he_ was hard, though up until now he’d been too distracted to even really focus on it. But there was nothing that hot, hard line pressing up against his hip could be but Magnus’ cock, was there?

Magnus linked his arms around the back of Alec’s neck and shot him an almost predatory smirk, and that was all it took for Alec to roll his hips right back, grinding up against Magnus as though he actually knew what the fuck he was doing. But Magnus moaned, and that was what counted: that no matter what Alec was going to be thinking once he got out of here and the adrenaline and arousal and whatever else stopped pounding in his veins and his head cleared a bit, no matter what he’d feel in the morning, how embarrassed he’d be, or how shocked at himself, right now, in this moment, he was doing _something_ that got to Magnus as much as Magnus was getting to him.

And that was how he ended up throwing his leg up and around, one thigh hitched up over Magnus’ hip, changing the angle and making their sinuous, sliding motions that much more _real_. 

Magnus let out a noise that sounded genuinely shocked, but the way he groaned Alec’s name, low and rumbling — “ _Alexander_ ” — made Alec feel quite confident that it was a _good_ surprise, not a bad one. Their eyes locked again, Magnus’ so deep and dark in the low light that Alec almost felt like he could fall into them; up this close, he could tell they were flecked with gold, something precious that most people probably didn’t get to see. He wasn’t sure why, but that thought was the one that had him stumbling, made him falter just enough that whatever spell he’d been under almost started to break.

But then Magnus’ hand slipped up under his tank top, five fingers like a brand skating up his sides and nails scraping bluntly over his ribs, and he shivered and fell right back into the moment. 

Alec had never been drunk, had never been high, but he’d heard people talk about it, and he figured that this had to be what it felt like. He could feel every place where Magnus was touching him like there was fire burning under his skin there; he knew, somehow, how Magnus was going to move before he did it, and he moved with him, they moved together. He wondered if what they were doing really even counted as dancing anymore.

The music changed around them, and people shifted past and moved to and fro, and Alec didn’t look away from Magnus’ eyes. There was something charged in the air between them — what little air there was — and he felt like looking away would have ripped that breath from his lungs. He felt like it was impossible. He felt like if he did it he would lose something precious and impossible to name.

And then he rolled his hips forward again, in time with the bump and beat of a bass drum, and all at once every sensation became _too much_. He realized, with a dizzy sort of feeling, that he was no longer just _hard_ — he was aching, and there was a damp spot at the front of his pants, and his breath was ragged. 

Magnus seemed to have hit some sort of limit, too, becuase it wasn’t just Alec who pulled away; they moved apart together, as though they’d made some kind of mutual decision. Their eyes were still locked, and Alec had been watching Magnus, watching his eyes, for long enough that night to think he understood the play of emotions that splashed through them: wariness and longing and a little bit of regret. But he was smiling, even as he leaned away, and when he pulled his hand out from under Alec’s shirt he used it to grab his hand instead.

“Alexander,” he said, as though it were all he _could_ say, and even though they were no longer touching anywhere except for their hands, even though they were both standing still in the middle of the floor, Alec shivered.

Magnus hesitated for just a moment, and then something in his eyes settled, and he smiled again, wide and bright and, Alec dared to let himself hope, real. 

“See you around, pretty boy,” he said, and then he was gone.

—

Alec was a wreck the next day.

Not for the reasons that, even in the moment, he’d been half-afraid he might be — not because he felt some sort of shame or regret. On the contrary, every part of him ached to find a way to go back in time to the previous night and just live it over and over again, stay permanently in the little bubble of seemingly unreal reality where he was dancing with a beautiful man, with _Magnus_ , who moved like water or smoke or starlight or something equally impossible to hold but had looked at him, in fleeting moments, with a genuine sort of curiosity and warmth.

He couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few minutes before his thoughts drifted, inevitably, back to the barn in the woods, the music and the low light and the _dancing_. Alec had never wanted to dance before. He wanted to try every dance lesson the resort offered, except he knew he wouldn’t — couldn’t — because he wanted to see Magnus again and was terrified of seeing Magnus again in equal measure.

Instead he followed Izzy around, becuase it was better than being alone, partially because he loved his baby sister and enjoyed her company and partially because if he was alone, Robert would have the opportunity to pounce and ‘suggest’ Alec spend some time with Aline, and if he was with Izzy, Alec had the built-in excuse of family bonding, which was, after all, the alleged point of this whole trip.

Izzy wanted to go down to the lake, to play volleyball on the beach — there was some sort of tournament being arranged that day, apparently — so that’s what they did. Alec was tall enough that his lack of specific skill when it came to volleyball was mostly irrelevant by virtue of his sheer physical advantage, so his and Izzy’s team managed to do pretty well for themselves, even though Alec kept losing focus at inopportune times and having near misses with the ball.

If Izzy noticed he was off, she didn’t say anything; they got lunch together — there was a little snack shack on the shore, so they didn’t have to worry about going all the way back up to the main body of the resort, or getting dressed nicely enough to have lunch there, _or_ seeing their parents. 

They splashed around a bit after lunch; Izzy had worn a bikini under her clothes, so she actually swam properly, at least a little bit, even though the water was freezing. Alec just waded in up to mid-calf and occasionally splashed at her good-naturedly, not willing to get his shorts wet. As he stood there in the afternoon sun, watching the way the light glinted off the surface of the lake, with the chilly water lapping at his skin, he couldn’t help but think of the night before, when everything had been so impossibly hot, when the only wetness on his skin had been sweat and the ambient humidity of that room, so many people pressed so closely together.

Eventually they had to go back to the bungalow to change, because after Izzy put her clothes back on over her wet bikini, she started to get uncomfortable very, very quickly. Their mother caught them just as they were coming in the door, and after that there was really nothing for it. It wasn’t that Alec even really _minded_ having dinner with the Penhallows again (though just Patrick and Aline this time, their mother was saying Alec as Izzy ran to her room to change out of her wet clothes, as Jia would be busy). It was just — dinner meant the main house, which meant that dance floor off from where the dining area was, which meant his father would probably try to convince him to dance with Aline again, which meant seeing Magnus. _Maybe_ seeing Magnus. And even the mere possibility of it was enough to make his heart thump traitorously behind his ribs.

—

“Alec, why don’t you and Aline —” Robert started to say, and Alec tensed, but before his father could even get the sentence out, he was being interrupted.

“Actually, yeah, Alec, I was just about to ask, do you want to go get some air?”

Alec blinked at Aline. Actually, everyone blinked at Aline, though the pure shock and slight suspicion with which Alec did it was quite different from the seeping smugness with which Robert did it.

“Uh,” Alec said, but couldn’t really find a good way to say no, so he stood up instead. He didn’t offer Aline his hand or his arm or anything, and she didn’t seem to want it, setting off purposefully for a set of French doors that Alec knew lead out into a garden area at the back of the building.

Aline didn’t say anything until they were out of the building, and neither did he. They were both silent, in fact, for several long minutes, until they reached what Aline had evidently deemed the right destination — a bench, small enough that it was clearly meant for two people but large enough that it wasn’t necessarily intimate, set off from the garden path amidst gorgeous hydrangeas. 

She sat on one end of the bench, and gestured for Alec to sit, too. Given that she was sitting so close to the edge that she almost looked in risk of falling off, he didn’t feel too weird about doing the same. She looked at him steadily, her expression unreadable.

“Sorry for doing that out of the blue, I just had to get out of there,” she said. “No offense, but I wasn’t too into the idea of dancing with you again.”

Maybe Alec should have been insulted by that, but he definitely, absolutely wasn’t. He was, in fact, very relieved.

“Me, too,” he admitted. “On, uh, both counts.”

She laughed, a bit dry, but amused and friendly. “Look, you seem like a great guy and all, just — I’m seeing someone. A girl, to be clear.” She paused. “I’m not into men. At all.”

Alec blinked hard, trying very hard to school his face into an expression that made it clear that the reason a choked-off, wheezing laugh came bubbling up out of him as she said that wasn’t some sort of latent bigotry. It was just that, holy shit, not only was his dad being completely transparent about his attempts to set them up, but he’d managed to pick a potential suitor for Alec, his gay son, who would never want him just the same as he would never want her, _because she was a lesbian_.

“That’s good, ‘cause I’m not into women at all,” he told her, and they stared at each other wordlessly for a moment before breaking down into mutual peals of laughter.

“Oh, god,” Aline managed after a moment, wiping tears from her eyes. “If only our parents knew. I mean, I don’t think mine are really as in on the whole matchmaker thing your dad’s doing as it might look to you — they can be kind of clueless, so they honestly might not have noticed, and they know about Helen anyway — but still.”

“My dad _does_ know, though,” Alec groaned in return. “That’s the whole _point_. I think he thinks if I hit it off with you, maybe he can forget that I came out.”

Aline winced. “Shit, I’m sorry. My parents might not have had the perfect response when I introduced them to Helen, but at least they’ve never tried to pull shit like that.”

“It’s all right,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s not, not really, but I keep telling myself that I just have to get through this summer, and then —” He waved one hand aimlessly, gesturing towards _college_ and _freedom_ and every other existential hope he’d been pinning on the coming fall.

“I get that. Me and Helen — my girlfriend — are both starting at NYU in the fall. We’re gonna live together.”

“That’s awesome,” Alec said softly, and meant it, even though he also felt a little pang of jealousy. He desperately tried to squash that down, though; Aline, now that he no longer had to worry about the concept of romance as it pertained to her, was easy to talk to, and he was automatically in support of as many fellow queer children of his parents’ social circle as he could find, anyway. In some strange way, he’d expected to be alone — not _overall_ , not in _general_ , but in the boundaries of his family and everyone his parents knew. He’d expected that he was an anomaly amongst his father’s friends and their families; Robert had certainly implied as much. Now he knew better. And if Aline was sitting here beside him, talking about moving in with her girlfriend, who her parents knew, going to college and starting their lives _together_ …

Well, then maybe he could have that, too.

The pair of them slipped into silence for a moment, both clearly feeling a lot better with the air clear between them. Alec relaxed just a little, leaning back into the bench and staring up at the night sky; it was so much clearer here then back home in Manhattan, though he imagined it was probably clearer most places than it was in Manhattan. He couldn’t see every single star, not with the light pollution coming from the resort itself, if nothing else, but he could see far more of them than he was used to, and if he squinted he could make out the cloudy outline of the Milky Way.

He sighed, looking back down to Earth, glancing across at Aline. “We should probably get back,” he said with no small amount of regret. “Our parents are probably wondering where we are, what we’re doing.”

Aline nodded, but also smirked. “If they think you’re doing me, no doubt your dad will be pleased, at least.” 

He laughed as he stood up. This time, knowing there was no way she’d read into it, he offered his hand to help her up, and she took it, dropping it as soon as she was on her feet. They walked back into the dining room together, and when he met his father’s eyes, Alec smiled a vacant, beatific smile.

—

It felt like he had a weight off his shoulders. Only two days in, and already the massive worry that he’d had about this whole summer, the idea that his father would be pressuring him constantly and that he might be fending off advances from a girl he barely knew, had been turned on its head, become almost a joke. Aline had flirted with him outrageously over dessert, trying to make him laugh, and he returned in kind in an attempt to get _her_ to crack, and Robert’s smile had gotten more and more and more smug, while Jia and Patrick just looked vaguely amused. He had to explain the whole thing to Isabelle, who apparently knew about Helen, given that she felt the need to try and lay into Alec about the fact that Aline was taken even though she knew Alec couldn’t possibly have been interested, but that was well worth it.

But that didn’t solve the Magnus problem.

Not that there was really a ‘Magnus problem’; that was probably giving far too much credit where credit wasn’t due. It wasn’t as though anything had really happened, he tried to convince himself. People — strangers — danced like that with each other all the time, probably, under the right circumstances. Certainly most of the other people in the barn had been dancing that way, too; he and Magnus hadn’t exactly been a special case. It probably meant nothing — less than nothing. Magnus’ parting shot, calling him _pretty boy_ , that didn’t mean anything, either. He’d probably just been joking around.

And yet.

He made it a week. A whole week of being half-focused, of his thoughts slipping away whenever he wasn’t paying attention and landing on Magnus. He didn’t actually see the man except in glimpses; he caught just the flash of him leaving a room a couple of times, and saw a figure that he _thought_ was Magnus all the way across the lake, once. But those little moments helped keep him top-of-mind, and there was more then one occasion on which he had to resort to hiding an unfortunately timed erection just from remembering what had happened, what it had been like to dance like that with Magnus.

It wasn’t as though Magnus was the _only_ person he knew who’d be in the staff quarters, he reasoned with himself as he made his way up the path that lead, eventually, to the big barn, after a whole week of what he personally considered impressive restraint. He could just as easily be going to see Maia, who he’d spotted around the resort much more frequently than Magnus — she was a waitress, and she’d grinned and waved at him a couple of nights ago at dinner, and he’d smiled back. 

He _wasn’t_ going to see Maia, obviously, but at least he had the excuse if he needed it.

No one seemed to really notice him as he slipped in the barn doors; he was just another body, and it was dark in here, darker even than last time, at least at the back where the doors were. Up at the front it was actually surprisingly well-lit, and it only took him a moment to notice that that was because this was an entirely different kind of dance party than the last one had been.

There was just one couple dancing, everyone else gathered around them to watch. Alec slipped in at the back of the crowd and settled in to watch, too, his eyes roving over them for a moment before he squinted and realized it was Maia, dancing with a thin, pale girl with long black hair — the girl he’d seen her wander off to on the first night he came here, he realized. 

They were doing a kind of dance that Alec didn’t recognize, but the music was fun, jazzy and infectious, with just enough of a dubsteppy, electronic feel to it to make it abundantly clear that it was modern. Maia was wearing her work uniform still, which was close enough to a tux without the jacket, and the other girl was wearing a blue dress with a skirt that flared out when she moved.

He seemed to have come in at the tail end of their performance; they ended on a dramatic note, with Maia dipping her partner and bringing her back up into a sweet, brief kiss, just a smack of lips, really, that drew laughter and hoots from the crowd. Everyone was clapping and cheering for them as Maia sketched a bow, her nose scrunching up as she smiled, and they melted into the crowd holding hands. Almost immediately, another couple stepped in to take their place — a guy with short, dark hair and a curvy blonde woman — and, after the guy had shouted something over his shoulder, another song started up. Country, of all things, which drew a chorus of good-natured boos and groans from part of the crowd, but as the couple started up a lively two-step, people settled into watching again.

“Does everyone at this fucking resort dance?” Alec muttered under his breath, even as he watched with something approaching awe. Country music wasn’t exactly his cup of tea, and he still didn’t know the first thing about dancing, but this couple could really move. Maia and her partner had clearly been having a good time, but these two were _good_ , the guy especially.

“Well, not everyone, but I’m trying,” a low voice said just to his right, and Alec jumped, his heart thumping traitorously.

Magnus was watching the couple dance, and tapping his foot to the beat, but as Alec stared at him, wide-eyed, he shot a glance over at him and smirked at what he saw. Alec was sure he probably deserved that, could feel himself blushing all the way to the tips of his ears, but Magnus looked — if he had been collected and powerful the first time Alec saw him, in that slim black suit, and positively sinful and tempting the second time in his tight tight tight pants and open shirt, now he just looked gorgeous, plain and simple. His makeup was something of a middle ground between the two previous examples Alec had to reference, dramatic and alluring but not overpowering, and the purple crop-top he was wearing showed just enough skin to be tantalizing, without baring it all. He was wearing shorts, this time, and short and loose and almost, almost sheer, more than enough to send Alec’s pulse into overdrive.

“You teach the staff, too?” he managed to say, and was almost proud of how steady his voice was, though from the way Magnus was looking at him, he wasn’t fooled.

“Sometimes. Mostly I just encourage little get-togethers like this, encourage everyone to show off a little.” He shrugged elegantly and turned to look at Alec properly, not a sideways glance but a steady examination. “I almost thought I scared you off, last time. Especially after I saw you with the illustrious Miss Penhallow, walking out to the gardens the other night.”

His heart raced. Magnus had seen him with Aline? Magnus had _noticed_ , had been wondering about it? Even under that shock and the bloom of warmth the idea brought to his gut, though, he couldn’t help but snort at the concept. “Trust me, neither me nor Aline is interested in _anything_ the other has to offer.” 

Magnus broke into a grin that was just open and goofy enough to be completely charming. “Good. I already knew she was gay, I just wanted to know if _you_ knew. And get a read on you, of course.”

Alec choked on his own breath for a moment. “After the way I — after the way we danced, before,” he managed, his brain-to-mouth filter temporarily broken down by shock, “you needed to _get a read_ on whether or not I’m gay?”

There was a long moment where Magnus just stared at him in apparent amazement, with the couple still dancing in front of them and the country music still playing all around, some twangy song about love and back roads and who the hell knew what, and then all at once Magnus was tipping his head back and laughing so loudly and so joyfully that people were turning to stare.

“Oh, Alexander, you _are_ a treat,” he said through his laughter, while Alec grinned a little uncertainly back at him and tried to determine whether or not he was being made fun of. “You never know, darling! You’d be surprised how many straight men find themselves lost in the moment from time to time.”

Alec didn’t doubt he was right, though he quirked an eyebrow. But, still. Hearing Magnus laugh like that was positive reinforcement for being a little bit bold, saying things he might not normally say, which was probably the only thing that actually encouraged what came out of his mouth next.

“I really would have thought,” he said, a little quieter, so that Magnus leaned in a little bit to hear him better and he leaned in, too, a reciprocal instinct, “that you’d had all the evidence you would need.” He paused, bit his lip, and continued after only a moment of consideration. “I would have thought you _felt_ it.”

From the way Magnus froze next to him, the way his eyes darted up to meet Alec’s and then down to trace over his lips, his implication was taken in and fully understood. 

“What did you come here for?” he asked, and this time it was Alec’s turn to lean in in order to hear him properly. He couldn’t quite get close enough, though, because the country couple’s song was ending and they were getting their own round of cheers and applause, causing a sudden jump in the noise level, so he had to resort to lip reading, watching as Magnus’ mouth moved over the shapes of the words.

It was, as a matter of fact, a good question. It was a question Alec had been asking himself over and over again on the walk here, and throughout the whole week prior: what did he want from Magnus? Why was there this burning need under his skin, to see him again, to come back and be here with him, standing close like this in the semidark?

He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. Up this close, he could even tell how Magnus _smelled_ , something warm and smooth with just the slightest bite of night air and clean sweat. 

“I want,” he said slowly, “for you to teach me to dance. Not as a part of a group, not for the resort. Just you and me.”

Magnus studied him carefully; his eyes were unreadable, and Alec wasn’t sure if that was because it had been too long since he’d seen them, or if this was something new he just didn’t know how to recognize yet. “And is that all you want?” he asked very softly.

“No,” Alec said, automatic and completely certain, open and unabashed. “No, not at all. But I _do_ want it.”

Magnus watched him a little longer, just staring, long enough that he almost started to get nervous. But then he smiled, lightning-quick and clearly more than pleased.

“That, Alexander,” he said, his voice just a little rough, “will be magnificent.”

He paused, as though expecting a response; Alec didn’t give him one, _couldn’t_ give him one, his mouth hanging open uselessly and his lashes fluttering as he tried to take in every aspect of Magnus’ expression, from the odd light in his eyes to the twist of his lips. Apparently giving up, Magnus shook his head after a moment, leaning in impossibly closer than he’d been before, speaking right into Alec’s ear.

“Meet me back here at two tomorrow. I think I can make time.”

And then, before Alec had the chance to say anything, he was gone _again_ , disappearing like smoke in the way that seemed to be practically his calling-card. It would be frustrating, if Alec weren’t so suffuse with a bubbling sense of triumph and anticipation and _want_.

—

He made some excuse as he slipped away around 1:30 the next day, not wanting to be late, but he was so busy thrumming with anticipation that he didn’t even remember what it was as soon as he’d said it. Izzy, he figured, probably knew something was up, but his parents didn’t seem to care; maybe they thought he was sneaking out to see Aline. Maybe they were glad.

Instead, he was off to possibly seduce or be seduced by an incredibly sexy man who moved like no one Alec had ever seen and who had, in recent memory, ground up against him until he was so hard he was leaking in his pants.

Even if he and Aline _hadn’t_ both been gay, this would not have boded well for their potential summer romance.

Magnus was waiting for him outside the barn when he arrived; he checked his phone surreptitiously, but no, it was still only 1:54. Apparently they were just both worried about being on time.

“Alexander!” he called as soon as Alec came into view, stepping away from the barn door to greet him, smiling wide and bright. “You came.”

“Of course I came,” Alec answered automatically, then felt his face heat a bit at how defensive that sounded. Magnus seemed a little amused, but didn’t comment, just set one hand at the small of his back and led him away.

Alec had assumed they were going to be practicing in the barn, but clearly that was not the case. When he said as much, Magnus explained that the barn was really just the communal living space for the staff; during the day, there were chairs and things inside, which got shoved into the corners most nights so that the floor was clear.

“But we don’t want to inconvenience anyone, and you might not want an audience for your first lesson,” Magnus said, drawing to a stop as they reached a small, sturdy-looking building with small front windows and a flat roof. “Besides, I have a better space anyway, because I’ve been working here for years and the Penhallows love me.”

The building, it turned out, was all one room: a dance studio, a proper one, with mirrors along one wall and one of those weird horizontal poles that people used for ballet. Alec looked around, interested and somehow just a little bit more intimidated than he had been before.

“We’re going to start off simple,” Magnus said, already moving to the back of the room, where a stereo sat. He fiddled with it for a moment while Alec stared into the wall of mirrors, and then a song started up, vaguely familiar but hard to place. Magnus moved back to the center of the room and held out a hand, and Alec went to him, helpless to do anything else.

A woman’s voice started singing — _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…_ — just as Magnus said, “I’m going to teach you to waltz, Alexander.”

Alec frowned a little bit, more out of confusion than disapproval. “That doesn’t really seem like your style, no offense.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find that _everything_ is my style, darling,” Magnus informed him, clearly amused. “I’ve been dancing since before I could walk. Now. You’re going to follow, for now, until you get a feel for it, and then I can teach you to lead if you’d like. It’s useful to know both, especially if you don’t intend to be doing most of your dancing with women.” He winked.

“No,” Alec agreed, maybe a little too quickly. “Both is probably good, then.”

Magnus grinned. “I thought so. But you’ll follow first.”

And then they were off. The waltz wasn’t so bad; it was pretty simple, or at least the basic step was, and he wasn’t having much trouble keeping up even when Magnus started to slowly steer them around the room.

 _You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream_ , the song trilled, and Magnus said, “Loosen up, Alexander. You’re doing fine, but you’re so _stiff_. Relax.”

Alec tried, but in this context — this dance that felt so _formal_ , so different from the way he’d danced with Magnus previously — he found relaxing to be deceptively hard. 

And then Magnus, as though sensing that he needed some motivation, raised one hand high above his head and twirled Alec around like it was nothing, without any warning or preparation. Alec nearly stumbled, but managed to keep his feet and eventually turn back to face Magnus and slot their hands together again, eyes wide.

“Warn me next time,” he said, but Magnus just laughed in his face.

“Not a chance, darling, where’s the fun in that? Besides,” he added, with a pointed look down — at Alec’s spine, he supposed. “Look how much more relaxed you are now. Just let go and let me lead, you’re _fine_.”

And, strangely, it _was_ easier after that. Magnus, Alec slowly realized, wasn’t just a good dancer; he was a good teacher, too. He made it seem so easy, what he was doing and what he was teaching Alec to do, and in making it seem that easy somehow he made it _become_ that easy. At least this — at least the waltz. Alec might not be some sort of dance savant, but at least he could do this.

The waltz ended up being all they did that afternoon. There was some flirting, some teasing — Magnus’ hands holding his, or touching his waist or occasionally his hip — but they stuck to the waltz, at what would have been a perfectly acceptable distance even if they were in public, not alone in Magnus’ studio together. 

And when Magnus pulled away, with some obvious regret, saying, “Sorry, Alexander, but I’d better get going — I’ve got a class in twenty minutes,” Alec couldn’t even bring himself to be upset or to resent it. Sure, they hadn’t done anything nearly as sensual or as _close_ as before, but just spending time with Magnus, hearing him laugh, feeling him close by, had been good. More than good — amazing.

“Can we do this again?” he blurted, and Magnus grinned wide and proud.

“Same time tomorrow?”

—

Things were fine when they stuck to the somewhat easier dances. Alec could waltz, could merengue, could two-step, even though Magnus refused to listen to country when they practiced that one — he wasn’t uncoordinated, and Magnus knew what he was doing. Alec slipped away again and again and again, more and more often as one and then two and then three weeks flew by, often to see Magnus but also, sometimes, to practice on his own. He felt a little silly, dancing with his arms held out in front of him like he was embracing an invisible person, with only his headphones in for music; he only did it when he was sure there was no one else around, in the most remote corners he could find.

He and Magnus were having a wonderful time; they hadn’t yet recaptured that electric closeness from the very first night they met, but somehow, Alec wasn’t worried. They laughed, and grew closer, and Alec found it easier and easier to relax around him, to lose himself in the music and the dancing and the warm familiarity of Magnus across from him.

And then Magnus decided he needed to learn the tango.

“It’s a challenge,” he’d said, to be fair, at the beginning of the afternoon. “But I have no doubt you’re up to it.”

Alec wasn’t up to it.

“Careful with your —” Magnus hissed as Alec stepped on his foot for what felt like the dozenth time, and Alec grit his teeth. He _never_ did that. Even when he flubbed a step on occasion, he didn’t actually step on Magnus’ toes. He had at least enough control over his body to avoid _that_ , except now apparently he didn’t.

“It’s okay,” Magnus soothed, “try again. Two, three —” 

But within seconds, he was wincing in pain again as Alec accidentally _kicked him in the shin_ , and Alec ripped his hands out of Magnus’ and stalked to the other side of the room, fuming.

“Alexander,” Magnus called after him, and something about the note of reproach in his voice just made it worse. 

“Stop,” Alec bit back harshly, shoulders hunched, unable to face him. “Just — stop. For a minute. Just stop.”

Magnus was quiet for a moment. Then, with gentle, padding footsteps, he crossed the room and turned off the stereo; in the sudden silence of the lack of music, Alec could hear his breathing.

“Sorry,” he said after a moment, much more quietly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Magnus hummed, an acknowledgement and acceptance of his apology and a slight denial all in one. 

“I wasn’t giving you a break when I should have been able to tell you needed one,” he said evenly. “I’m sorry, too. You’ve been doing so well, I guess I tried to push too hard.”

Alec made a short noise in his throat and turned back around; when he did, he saw Magnus’ face light up with a small smile.

“You know,” he said, in a slow, thoughtful voice that made Alec sort of giddily nervous to hear what he’d come up with, “I think we both might do well with a change of scenery.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

—

“No,” Alec said flatly. “No way.”

“What’s the matter, Alexander?” Magnus smirked, eyes alight with challenge. He was balanced on a narrow log in the middle of the woods, and he was making it look easy, in a way that Alec normally found impressive and even attractive, but currently found kind of infuriating. “Not up for it?”

“Not up for breaking my neck, no,” Alec deadpanned, but couldn’t deny the way the challenge lit up in his blood.

Magnus’ “change of scenery,” it turned out, had been a drive out into the woods, away from the resort, away from anyone and everyone, to a place where it at the very least _seemed_ like they were the only people around for miles and miles. There was a lake, off in the distance, and there was also this smooth, narrow tree, which, Magnus had explained as they hiked the short distance out to it from where he left his car parked on the side of the road, he had found a while back, and used to hone his balance.

“Oh, come on, darling,” Magnus wheedled. “Don’t you want to dance with me?”

Alec narrowed his eyes. That was just playing dirty.

But, well. 

It worked.

He got up on the log.

And when Magnus started to lead him into a careful merengue, he only stumbled once.

—

“God, that’s so much harder than it is on level ground,” Alec panted, some time later. His thin t-shirt was completely soaked through with sweat, sticking to his skin a bit uncomfortably, and he was so tired he was starting to shake a little bit. Magnus was out of breath, too, and clearly exhausted, which was something he supposed he could feel good about; at least he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of balancing precariously on the log for so long. And his balance _had_ improved the longer they’d gone on, at least until he started to get tired.

Magnus grinned at him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “You did great, though.” He paused a moment; something speculative passed over his face, and then it went completely smooth. “You want to cool off for a bit? We could go to the lake. It’s cold, but the water’s pretty clean.”

Alec considered this for only a second before the mental image of Magnus wading bare-chested into the water was shoving an “Okay” out of his mouth.

And while Magnus smirked like he could see right into his mind and knew _exactly_ what he was thinking, he didn’t say anything, just turned and led the way towards the lake where it was peeking through the trees, back further away from the road.

The lake was smaller than the one that the Penhallow’s resort backed up to — almost more of a pond, really — but the water _did_ look clean, and there was a nice little strip of pebbled beach on the shore. Alec stripped his shirt off gratefully, enjoying the cool breeze on his bare skin, and went for the waistband of his pants before he even realized what he was doing. Then he froze, tensing up, and looked over at Magnus as though seeking permission — Magnus who, while Alec hadn’t been looking, had apparently been on much the same train of thought.

 _Fuck_.

Alec had seen his chest before, in flashes and glimpses, under shirts that hung open and through a litany of nearly-transparent workout gear, but there was something about seeing it like this, completely bare and so far out here in the woods that it was like they were in their own little world, that made his heart stutter. There was also the fact that Magnus was just plain gorgeous, but he knew that already; unable to quite stop himself, he let his gaze trail down from collarbone to sternum to the utter temptation of Magnus’ abs, to where he was — Alec’s breath caught — halfway through shimmying his pants off, tight black boxer briefs appearing where he was pulling his sweatpants down.

At least they were about to get into cold water, Alec thought half-hysterically, and set back to work on his own pants.

He made right for the water without waiting for Magnus, leaving his clothes in a heap on the shoreline; it was cool enough to make him hiss just a little, but not cold enough to scare him off, and after only a few moments he started to splash deeper and deeper into the water, feeling it lick its way from his calves to his thighs to his hips. That was when he finally turned around to look for Magnus, and found him wading slowly closer. Their eyes locked, and it wasn’t the chill of the water that made Alec shiver.

“What do you think?” Magnus asked, voice seeming to carry more than normal across the water. “Do you feel refreshed?”

Alec laughed softly and tried not to notice how breathless he sounded. “Definitely. Definitely refreshed.”

“You know,” Magus said, coming closer and closer, deep bronze skin shining in the light reflected off the surface of the water, “water is actually also a _great_ place to practice your balance. Gives you something soft to fall into.” Something seemed to occur to him as he came to a stop just inside Alec’s personal space, and a delighted, playful smirk lit up his face. “Oooh! I could try lifting you.”

“How would that even work?” Alec asked dubiously, though his eyes flickered down to Magnus’ hands hiding under the water, picturing those strong arms holding him up while Magnus’ hands sat like brands over his waist. “I’m taller than you.”

“Sure, but you’re kinda lean. I wouldn’t necessarily try to work it into a routine, but out here, for fun? Why not, right?” He pouted just a little, sticking his lower lip out comically, and Alec wasn’t sure if making him think about biting it was the intended effect but that sure was what was happening. “C’mon, we’ll just try it once, Alexander.”

As if Alec could deny him anything when he looked like that, eyes shining with mirth. “Fine. Once.”

The sudden touch of hands to his waist under the water made him jump; above the surface he could see the shift and flex of Magnus’ shoulders, the promise of power and strength there enough to make him shiver.

“Okay, chest out, arms back,” Magnus said. “Remember that. It might feel a little silly at first, but it helps with balance.”

Alec nodded, a little helplessly. “Got it.”

“Good. One, two, three —”

And that was all the warning he got to bounce up onto his toes, throwing himself forward as best he could as Magnus hoisted him up and up and up. _Chest out, arms back_ , he thought a little hysterically, unable to help the breathless giggle that burst out as he tried to hold the pose.

“Do _not_ laugh, Alexander, you’re going to make me — no, hold it — _shit!_ ”

It only lasted a few seconds before Alec was overbalancing, toppling over Magnus’ shoulders in a parody of a swan dive, both of them laughing and shrieking as Alec crashed into the water. He stayed down under the surface for a moment, eyes squeezed shut tight, letting the chill and the whooshing, churning sound of the water clear his head as best they could. 

Then he was surfacing, gasping for air and shaking the water out of his eyes, and Magnus was laughing harder than he’d ever heard, heaving and doubling over, and Alec moved without thinking, leaping at him and tackling him down into the water, grinning and shouting and splashing, legs twining around him in an attempt to gain the upper hand as they wrestled, ankles locking behind his back — 

Between one heartbeat and the next, they both realized what was happening and froze, chests heaving and eyes wide. Alec had both legs up around Magnus’ waist, arms around his neck, one hand tangled in his hair in what had been an attempt to shove his head under the water but now seemed so much more intimate. Magnus’ hands were firm on Alec’s hips, and as their eyes met, Alec felt his stomach flip over.

“I think we can call that one a draw, wouldn’t you say?” Magnus breathed, and Alec barely heard him.

Slowly, so slowly, he started to disentangle himself, unsure how he found the strength when his heart was threatening to pound its way right out from under his breastbone. Magnus let him go, but didn’t drop his gaze.

 _Not here_ , was all Alec could think. _Soon. But not here. Not yet._

They walked out of the lake and back to the car in silence.

—

“We’re doing another showcase in the barn on Thursday,” Magnus said abruptly, just as Alec, his hair still wet from the lake, was about to turn and make his way back to the bungalow, maybe clean up a little and go to dinner.

The ride back had been quiet and strangely tense. Not, Alec thought, in a bad way, not necessarily. But _tense_.

“Okay?” he said, uncertain. The sun was starting to go down, casting Magnus in a golden glow, catching on his eyelashes and his cheekbones as he licked his lips, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“I want you to go with me.” His voice made it clear that it was a request, not a demand, that he wasn’t sure what answer he’d get. “Not to watch. I want us to dance.”

Alec didn’t even have to think about it. He watched the way Magnus’ eyes glimmered in the fading light and the words fell out of his mouth automatically.

“What do you have in mind?”

—

“Of course he would want to fucking tango,” Alec grumbled to himself under his breath as he padded down the path toward the Lightwoods’ bungalow. Still, he couldn’t deny the way his heart was pounding in his chest. He was excited — beyond excited — and not, he realized, just to spend yet more time with Magnus, to be close to him in a dance that was universally acknowledged as romantic and sensual. He was excited by the concept of _dancing_ , of performing together like that, everyone watching them as they moved together.

He snuck off over and over and over again. His parents hardly seemed to notice, and when they did Robert was still smug about it, clearly sure that if there was anyone Alec was sneaking around with, it must be Aline, because who else would it be?

It was a little more surprising that Isabelle never asked, just smirked at him from time to time. But — well — Alec had heard her lectures about letting go and loosening up enough times, after all. Maybe she was just glad he was clearly doing _something_ that made him happy, even if she didn’t know what it was.

And then he saw her slipping off behind the boathouse one evening with one of the waiters, a boy he vaguely recognized as someone he’d seen out at the barn a couple of times, and figured maybe she also had her own summer flirtation to worry about, and didn’t have time for his.

But Alec had better things to think about than worrying what his family thought about where he was going and how he was spending his time. He was seeing Magnus, every single day, for horus at a time — more than seeing, he was _holding_ him, fingers skating over the bare skin of his arms where Magnus gripped him.

He learned to tango almost on accident, without even noticing that it was happening, too caught up and enraptured by Magnus, Magnus, _Magnus_. His movements slowly became more graceful, he stopped stepping on Magnus’ feet or kicking him in the shins, and with each passing moment of every passing day he slipped more fully into the moment, the music, the dance.

“I knew you’d be magnificent,” Magnus whispered to him on the last night before their performance, as the afternoon light faded into evening, and Alec shivered and let himself believe it.


	2. Never Felt This Way Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Who on Earth put you in the corner, darling?" Magnus asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for: Robert being a mustache-twirly bad dad (i.e. homophobic language); discussion of rape, suicide, and child abuse in brief, abstract terms.
> 
> How did this end up with so much Disney music in it??? We just don't know. (We do know. It's because I'm me, and I never resist my id, and my id wants to see Magnus and Alec dance to High School Musical, goddammit.) 
> 
> Enjoy, loves! <3

The barn was quiet. Not silent, not with the low murmur of nighttime in the Catskills outside and the soft shifting of dozens of people all around them, but quiet. Alec could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, could hear Magnus’ breathing, measured and familiar. 

And then the music started.

The sudden zing of a violin, and they were moving, slow, smooth steps contrasted with the quick flutter of Magnus’ legs darting around and through his own. They were close, so close: chest to chest, brushing at the hips, fingers clasped tightly together. Magnus all but threw himself at the floor, but Alec was there to catch him, clutching at his shoulders and drawing him back up into a tight spin. For the briefest second, Magnus wound his leg around Alec’s calf before moving away again, and even in the moment Alec couldn’t help but gasp as the touch made their hips align.

He wasn’t hard — god, as though he could move like this with an erection — but even here, even now, he _wanted_.

For a moment, it broke him out of his almost-trance, out of the dancing and the music and _Magnus_. Not for long, but long enough: he stumbled. Magnus, this time, was the one to catch _him_ , and they moved right through it, flowing smoothly on.

“It’s okay,” Magnus murmured even as they continued to dance, even as Alec became increasingly aware of the crowd around them — the gasps whenever Magnus made a particularly tight turn or Alec stretched low and smooth to support him through a lean, the wolf-whistles when they would part, eyes locked on each other like nothing could make them look away, and then practically fly back together, molding against each other like silk. 

They ended on a dramatic flare of the music, with Magnus thrown backwards over Alec’s arm supporting him at the waist, his head tipped back as if in ecstacy, and Alec’s other hand resting almost possessively over his heart, close enough to feel it rabbiting away under the thin layer of cloth keeping them apart.

Alec was breathing like he’d run a marathon, and all around him the rest of the staff was laughing and cheering and hooting — he heard someone, presumably Maia, call out for him by name — but all he had the strength to do was look at Magnus.

They had to relinquish the stage, but they didn’t have to let go of each other. And they didn’t.

“Let’s get out of here,” Magnus murmured into his ear as soon as they were out of the spotlight, as soon as they had merged back into the crowd, and Alec didn’t stop to think before he shivered and agreed.

They didn’t go far, though, just outside. After the hot, heavy air inside the barn, with so many people pressed closed together and with Magnus pressed close to him, the night breeze was almost a shock to Alec’s system. 

“Alexander,” Magnus said as soon as they were outside, not giving him even a second’s respite from the absolute onslaught of him that Alec had been subject too all evening — not, of course, that Alec was complaining. They drew to a stop together, standing just outside the barn door, the music leaking out from inside. Magnus sounded breathless, though he wasn’t breathing hard anymore, not like they’d both been when they finished their dance. “Alexander, that was _incredible_.”

There was genuine awe in his voice. Alec’s stomach gave a funny jolt. “ _You_ were incredible. I — I screwed up a little.”

Magnus shook his head, reaching out to grab Alec’s wrist, forcing him to look. “You made one, tiny misstep, and then you recovered from it. And that was the first time you’d ever really danced in front of people. Alexander, darling, you were…”

For once, he seemed lost for words, but he let out a little huff of laughter, a _what-can-you-do?_ sort of sound, and shook his head, and Alec understood what he meant. Couldn’t quite believe it, couldn’t quite accept it, but understood.

“I couldn’t have ever, ever done something like that without you,” he said quietly, and didn’t think he imagined the way Magnus shivered at the words, at the current running through them of other things left as yet unsaid.

“You could,” Magnus whispered back. “You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. You could.”

Alec’s heart was hammering in his throat, his breath was rattling in his chest, his hands were shaking where they clenched into fists behind his back. _Not yet_ , he told himself, just like he had at the lake. _Not yet. Not quite._

He didn’t know what he was waiting for, only that he hadn’t found it yet. It hadn’t been _right_ yet, and with Magnus — _for_ Magnus — he needed it to be more than right. He needed that moment to be perfect, because otherwise…

“I should,” he said, and cleared his throat so that he could force the rest of the words out. It didn’t work, but Magnus nodded anyway, smiling in a way that was slightly sad and yet still managed to convey that he understood.

“I’m sure your family is wondering where you are,” he replied, half-joking; he knew full well that they didn’t seem to mind Alec sneaking off, because Alec had told him. Because, for whatever stupid reason, Alec felt like he could tell Magnus anything. “Goodnight, Alexander. And thank you.” He didn’t need to say for what.

“Goodnight, Magnus,” Alec said quietly, and slipped off down the path down back in the direction of the guest bungalows, away from the barn and out of sight, his heart still beating so fast that it almost scared him, the way a lot of things with Magnus almost scared him.

The walk back was quiet; there was no one else around. He was a little surprised by that, until he checked his phone and realized it was after midnight. No wonder, then, that there were no other people walking in the moonlight through the woods, down a winding path that took him away from what he wanted — _who_ he wanted — and back to what he knew he had to do. Away from the dancing, and from Magnus, and back to being the dutiful son, just for a little longer, just until the fall. Just until he could finally, _finally_ get away for good.

He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even realize that it was odd that the lights in his family’s bungalow were still on.

“Alec.” His father’s voice made him freeze the instant he stepped through the door.

Alec turned slowly, closing the door behind him with a soft _snick_. There was Robert, sitting in an easy chair in the main room. Alec had never seen someone look so uncomfortable and tense in an easy chair in all his life; it was really almost comical, or at least it would have been if not for the dark, tight look on his face, the kind of look Alec had mercifully avoided all summer.

The kind of look he had gotten all the more used to seeing since he came out six months ago.

“Dad,” Alec said cautiously, brows furrowing, feeling his shoulders tense up. He’d worn a plain white collared shirt and black pants; Magnus had danced all in black, just like the first time Alec saw him. He’d liked the symbolism of that, and the contrast between them, opposite extremes. Now, though, all he could think was that his outfit probably made it achingly obvious he hadn’t just been out for a moonlit stroll.

“Who have you been out with?” His voice was carefully calm, but there was something tense just beneath the surface, and anyway, Alec wasn’t fooled. He knew better than to listen to his father’s voice when he could see his expression. He always had a harder time controlling his face. “Since I know it’s not Aline. I was with her and her parents all night, until half an hour ago.”

Alec frowned, snapping back before he could help himself, voice flat, even though he _knew_ as soon as he did it that it was the wrong move. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Of course it’s my _business!_ ” Robert spat, fists clenching on the arm of the chair. “I thought things were going well between you two, but now you’re sneaking around with somebody else?”

“There isn’t anybody,” Alec protested, telling himself it was even true. Technically, after all, it was. 

Robert scoffed. “Don’t give me that crap when you look like _that_.”

“Like _what_?”

“Like you’ve been out on your knees somewhere,” he snarled, and Alec couldn’t even say anything, just let his mouth fall open in shock. 

His mind was buzzing faintly, his ears ringing. He had no idea what to say, no idea what to think. Where had that even _come_ from? He was sure he was sweaty and flushed, even after the walk home, but he was dressed pretty normally. Had his father found out about Magnus, somehow, had someone told him? But even that didn’t make sense, becuase he and Magnus hadn’t _done_ anything. And anyway, this was a whole new level of — of — god, his dad had said some hurtful stuff when he came out, but it had all been garden-variety bigotry, _you just haven’t met the right girl yet, you’ll get over it, no son of mine,_ et cetera. Nothing like _this_ , crass and cruel.

And then Robert pulled a flask out from somewhere Alec couldn’t see and took a swig, and everything made a bit more sense. He was drunk. Of course. He wouldn’t — he wouldn’t say something like that, otherwise. He _wouldn’t_. For the moment, at least, Alec had to cling to that.

“I can’t do this right now,” Alec said, not really even to his father but to the room at large, and turned around and went right back the way he came. 

“Alec! _Alec!_ Get back here!”

He let the door slam shut on his father’s voice, and by the time he was off the bungalow’s front porch, he was running.

—

The party was over. The barn stood empty and dark and hulking; Alec walked past it without a second glance. There were still a few people milling about, and he vaguely recognized some of them, but he didn’t stop to talk. He knew where he was going. He walked towards Magnus’ studio, and then past it, to the next building over, because he’d been working here for years and the Penhallows loved him, like he’d said, and so he got to live right next door to his studio. There was a light on inside, creeping out through the cracks.

Alec knocked on the door, which was when he noticed his hands were shaking. There was a muffled shuffling sound, and then the door was open, and Magnus was standing there.

He was dressed down, no longer in his sharp all-black look; the contrast between him in a soft blue t-shirt and loose gray shorts and Alec in his sweat-soaked and rumpled button-down and dress pants was almost comical. His hair, normally spiked and styled, hung down softly around his face, and his makeup was all wiped away for the night.

“Alexander?” he asked, clearly both surprised and concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I —” Alec hadn’t actually thought this far ahead. He hadn’t been thinking ahead at all, really, or thinking period; he’d just known where he had to go, the _only_ place he could go, and so he’d gone. “I had — when I got home, my dad was there, and he — he said —”

Without another word, Magnus drew him forward, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging him into his little house. The staff, Alec had come to learn, lived in little apartments that sort of resembled summer-camp cabins, single rooms with big screened windows to make up for the lack of proper air conditioning. Most had to share; Magnus, by virtue of seniority, did not, which Alec couldn’t help feeling pathetically grateful for at the moment.

Magnus lead him inside, towards the middle of the floor, and only then drew him into a brief hug. “What did he say?” he asked softly, his voice gentle and undemanding. 

Alec shook his head, finding himself unable to repeat it verbatim for a reason he couldn’t quite place. 

“It’s stupid. It was just — he wanted to know where I was, and then his usual homophobic bullshit, except it was worse than normal. He was drunk. I think that’s — I think that’s why.”

“That’s no excuse.” There was sympathy in Magnus’ eyes, and concern, but something else, too, something harsher. Anger, Alec realized, not at him but _for_ him, on his behalf. It made his breathing quicken just a little bit.

“No, it’s not. But it’s true anyway.” 

Magnus hummed, a neutral little noise. “I’m sorry. I wish he didn’t — I mean, obviously, I wish he _never_ said those things to you. But I’m especially sorry it was tonight. You deserve to be celebrated tonight, not talked down to by someone who can’t even see how wonderful you are.”

Did Magnus know, he wondered a little dizzily, what it felt like for Alec to hear those words? The only person who’d ever really said anything even vaguely resembling that to him was his _sister_. To hear Magnus’ tongue drop the word _wonderful_ and know it was meant to be applied to him was… He didn’t know how to deal with it. He didn’t know if he _could_.

“I, I don’t,” he tried, and Magnus seemed to get it, even though Alec couldn’t force out anything close to a complete sentence. He smiled, a warm, quick thing, and reached out to brush a hand against Alec’s cheek.

“You’re incredible, Alexander,” he said softly. “Not a lot of people could have done what you did tonight. You went from kicking me in the shins to performing a brilliant tango in about a week, but more importantly, you got out and you did it where everyone was watching. It was magnificent to behold. The first time I performed in front of people I broke down afterwards and cried for an hour, but you…” He trailed off, bit his lip. “You’re not scared of anything.”

And just like that, it soured. Of course — he should have known better. There had to be some sort of catch; there always was, with things like this. In this case, it wasn’t that Magnus’ compliments weren’t genuine, it wasn’t that he didn’t _mean_ it — it was just that he was _wrong_.

“ _Me?”_ he blurted, unable to stop himself. “I’m scared of _everything!_ I’m scared of the future, I’m scared of my parents, I’m scared of who I am, and — and most of all, I’m scared of walking out of this room and never feeling, the rest of my whole _life_ , the way I feel when I’m with you.”

There was utter silence. Alec turned away, unable to look at Magnus staring at him with his mouth hanging open, sent reeling by the sudden deluge of things Alec hadn’t meant to say, hadn’t even _thought_ about saying. 

But everything he’d said was true, even though he hadn’t realized some of it until the words had been falling out of his mouth. He longed for the promise of moving out, of freedom, but he was terrified of it in equal measure, terrified of stepping out into the unknown. His parents no longer had the power over him they once had, the power to twist him into the form they wanted without resistance, but some part of him still wanted to please them, still craved their acceptance, and had gone blank with terror when his father had yelled at him tonight, fearing or knowing that he’d never have that approval. He wasn’t scared of being gay, not anymore, nor of what it meant for him and his life, though he’d once been; it was everything _else_ about himself that terrified him, all the little ways in which he just knew he would never measure up.

And Magnus. _Magnus_. 

He didn’t even have _words_ for the kind of fear he felt when he thought of leaving Magnus behind, of leaving whatever this thing between them was in the past, of never having it again, never feeling this safe and warm and — and —

“Alexander,” Magnus said, so softly that Alec almost wondered if he’d imagined it. He swallowed hard and turned back around.

“Dance with me,” Alec said, his voice rougher than he’d thought it would be. Magnus was staring at him, his expression vulnerable, somehow, in a way Alec hadn’t even imagined it was possible for him to be.

“Here?”

 _Yes_ , he thought. _This is it. This is the right time, the right moment_.

“Here,” he confirmed, and reached out to take Magnus by the hand.

There wasn’t any music, but they didn’t need any. They moved together the way they’d been doing for over a month now, flowing around Magnus’ room without sticking to any particular style, almost bumping into furniture because they couldn’t tear their eyes away from one another. Every once in a while, there would be a flourish of something concrete, something Alec could recognize — a quick little turn that he knew was from a waltz, or a spin that somehow reminded him of the little bit of swing dancing Magnus had shown him weeks ago. 

He could feel Magnus’ heartbeat in his own; he could feel the way the air heated between them and moved and passed back and forth from one set of lungs to another.

It was an impulse, when he used the momentum of a step to fluidly throw a leg up and hook it around Magnus’ hips, like he’d done the first time they danced together, but he knew as soon as he’d done it that it was a good one. Magnus froze, and Alec stilled with him; they just looked at each other, Alec’s thigh practically at Magnus’ waist, and Alec felt a flush rising in his face that wasn’t embarrassment.

Yes. He’d been right. _This_ was the moment.

Very slowly, as though giving him the chance to turn away, Magnus leaned in. Alec didn’t move at first, and then suddenly he couldn’t have stopped himself from moving even if he had been inclined to try, and leaned forward the rest of the way until their lips met.

It was like a switch had been flipped: in less than a minute, they’d gone from dancing, to still, to kissing, with Magnus’ lips on his and Magnus’ hands seemingly everywhere at once, scrabbling down Alec’s back and seizing at his shoulders and fitting comfortably around his hips. Alec let his leg drop from Magnus’ waist and focused on kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, trying to steal the breath from his lungs, trying to lick inside him and see if he could stay there forever. He had kissed, before, this wasn’t his first, but he hadn’t ever done _anything_ that felt like this. He hadn’t ever done anything that even came close.

“ _Magnus_ ,” he groaned, unable to help himself, the sound swallowed up immediately in the meeting of their mouths. He could tell Magnus heard it anyway, though, because he got an answering groan and then there were fingers scrabbling at the buttons on his shirt, shoving it desperately away from his chest until he had to reluctantly remove his hands from where they’d settled at the back of Magnus’ head so that the offending fabric could be removed. 

That wasn’t fair, Alec decided, and it took quite a bit of uncoordinated scrambling as they both tried to touch each other in every way that it was possible to touch while, also, attempting to navigate Magnus’ shirt over his head and off his body. Eventually it crumpled to the floor to join Alec’s, forgotten, and then it was a race to shed clothing as quickly as possible — Alec toeing off his shoes frantically, Magnus helping him with his belt, Alec hooking his fingers in the elastic waistband of Magnus’ shorts, Magnus shoving Alec’s pants and boxers down all in one go until he could unceremoniously kick them from around his ankles — until they could tumble onto the bed, Alec falling backwards with Magnus following after to press against him from shoulders to thighs, making them both let out little noises of approval and arousal.

“Fuck, _Magnus_ ,” Alec whined, arching up desperately in search of friction, of contact, and Magnus made a little shushing noise, stroking his hair as though to soothe him.

“Oh, Alexander,” he said, sounding vaguely awed, but then his face cleared a little from the intense desire that had taken over them both and he frowned a tiny frown. “Have — darling, have you ever done this before?”

“Once,” Alec admitted, because there had been that one, desperate fumble with a kid in the year below him back in high school, a last attempt to confirm that he was gay before he came out to his parents. It had worked — though they hadn’t dated or ever really tried to do it again, they’d both been relatively satisfied by the experience — but he hadn’t felt anything then that even approached what he was feeling with Magnus at that moment.

“Good,” Magnus started to mumble, “that’s —”

But Alec cut him off by kissing him, craning his neck up just a little to press their lips firmly together and then suck Magnus’ bottom lip into his mouth, biting down lightly. Whatever Magnus had been saying was choked off into a groan, and he rolled his hips down without even seeming to realize that he’d done it, pressing their cocks together and leaving Alec _desperately_ aware of how close he already was to coming.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he exhaled, and saw Magnus’ pupils dilate just a little bit. “Every time I see you dance, I think about this.”

“The horizontal tango,” Magnus said quietly, sounding amused, but before Alec could try to shut him up with kisses again he was already leaning away just a little, fumbling around with something behind Alec’s head. Then he sat up, propping a knee under himself, and before Alec could really process that, process _anything_ that was going on, there was a slick hand grazing against his cock.

“Is this all right?” Magnus murmured, and then chuckled at the fierceness with which Alec nodded his head.

Magnus touched just him at first, alternating between staring down between their bodies at where he was working over Alec’s cock and looking up to see the effect he was having, his eyes trailing over the desperate flutter of Alec’s chest as he gasped for air or the way his eyes were squeezed shut tight against the sensations. 

And then he took his hand away for a moment, and Alec almost whined at the loss, except that seconds later he was bucking desperately upward, because Magnus had taken them _both_ in hand, and the combination of his hand and the silky heat of his cock rubbing against Alec’s, squelching slick with lube, was almost too much.

Alec let out a ragged moan that easily overpowered the tiny choked-off gasps that Magnus was releasing.

“ _Magnus_ ,” he grunted, “fuck, fuck, please —”

“Let go, darling, come on,” Magnus breathed, watching him greedily, and Alec didn’t even really have a chance to feel that embarrassed about it before he was coming. 

He’d fantasized about this kind of thing a lot, over the course of the past month or so: Magnus’ hands on him, Magnus whispering in his ear, Magnus groaning his name as Alec shuddered and jerked and coated his hand with come. The reality was _so_ much better.

He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to convince his thoughts to start working properly again, his breathing ragged. It took him a very long time, in his half-coherent post orgasm haze, to realize why Magnus’ breathing was so rapid and hitching and choked, and by the time he figured it out, Magnus was moaning out one long “Alexander, Alec, _Alec_ ,” as he came, too, their come mingling on Alec’s stomach.

They both laid there for a long time, breathing raggedly. Alec didn’t think he’d ever felt quite so satisfied, nor so suddenly, effusively happy.

—

Magnus practically had to shove him out the door the next morning.

“Alexander,” he said, sounding remarkably stern for a man whose neck was being nuzzled and kissed, as Alec tried desperately to hold onto the last vestiges of the previous night, when the two of them had laid together in the dark and talked until they fell asleep and the rest of the world had felt very far away. “We _have_ to go. I have work, and your family probably thinks you’ve been eaten by a cougar.”

“Nah, you’re not _that_ much older than me,” Alec muttered, earning himself a snort of laughter, but eventually he did have to admit defeat, if more for Magnus’ sake than his own. He’d texted Izzy to let her know he was okay, and wasn’t feeling charitable enough towards his parents to care if they were worried, but he didn’t want to get Magnus in trouble with the Penhallows.

As soon as he’d gotten to breakfast, though, he wished he’d done — fuck, _anything_ else, anything at all.

Izzy and his mom clearly both knew something was wrong, judging by their slightly confused and concerned expressions as he walked up to their table, muttering a greeting, but not the extent of it. But Robert…

Alec quietly took his place next to Izzy, praying a waiter would come by soon with coffee; god knew he needed it. His father hardly reacted to his arrival, acting completely normal, as though he hadn’t done anything last night. It was a pale attempt, because all it did was draw attention to the way he refused to look Alec in the eye, the way everyone obviously knew that something _had_ happened.

“I didn’t hear you get in last night, Alec,” his mother said, her voice light but a little stiff. Not reproachful, but curious. He didn’t miss the way she glanced at her husband, and he didn’t miss the way Robert steadfastly ignored her, either.

Alec smiled tightly. “Late night and an early morning,” he said, which wasn’t a lie; he’d woken at dawn to the sun seeping in through Magnus’ screened windows, turning everything golden, casting Magnus himself in soft relief as he slept on, oblivious. “I couldn’t sleep.” Also true; his whole body had felt both sated and alight, a contradiction that kept him tossing and turning while Magnus slept relatively peacefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Alec,” Robert said, and Alec almost shuddered at his voice, despite himself. He sounded so bland that it would have been obvious to _anyone_ that it was fake, let alone his family. “I’ve been starting to get a bit restless here too.”

“Restless?” Izzy asked, sounding confused, glancing at Alec as she spoke and then back to their father. She tapped one long red nail against her glass of orange juice absentmindedly.

“Yes,” Robert said, still sounding vacant and _off_. “I was actually thinking we should probably head home early. Maybe staying here for the whole summer was a ridiculous idea.”

Alec felt his stomach drop to the floor. No. No, damn it, not _now._

“ _What?”_ Izzy complained, her brow furrowing. “Come on, Dad, we’re not even halfway through!”

“Exactly,” Robert said. Normally, the anger creeping into his voice might have been a bad sign, but at least it was _something_ , some emotion that was real and not so obviously faked. “Barely a month, and Alec isn’t sleeping well, he’s out late all the time —”

“Don’t pin this on me,” Alec snapped. “I don’t want to _go_ , Izzy’s right, we’ve still got most of the summer left! We can’t just _leave_.” _I can’t leave_ , he thought, his head spinning a little. _You can’t make me leave._

“I don’t see why not.” Robert sounded dismissive, as though Alec and Isabelle were being completely ridiculous. “There are more important things in the world than vacation. Clearly, spending the whole summer here isn’t working, so we should —”

“No.”

His mother had been so relaxed the whole time they’d been here, seeming to genuinely enjoy herself, to really believe her family was reconnecting. She’d been a far cry from the woman he’d known in the past year or so, the one who had had to deal with her children learning that their father had had an affair, and then who had to bury her youngest son. She’d been warmer than Alec remembered her being for most of his childhood, more open, less harsh. But her expression and her voice as she cut through the argument that had sprung up between Alec and Izzy and Robert were every inch the cold, demanding Maryse Lightwood who had been the source of so many of Alec’s insecurities through the years.

At least she seemed to be on his side for once.

“We made the decision to stick this out together, Robert,” she said sharply, looking straight at her husband. It was as though Alec and Isabelle weren’t even there anymore, as though the whole room had fallen away. Her focus was absolute. “ _You_ suggested we come here, to the Penhallows’. But we decided _together_ that the four of us needed time together. As a family. And you’re not backing out of that. We are _not_ leaving.”

Alec glanced at Isabelle to see if she looked as shocked as he felt. She did.

“It’s hardly spending time as a family when Alec is slipping out at night to go and —”

“I don’t care what Alec is doing, or who he’s doing it with,” Maryse cut him off again, and Alec looked at her like she’d grown a second head, well aware he was gaping and unable to quite stop himself. Was this the same woman who had looked at him like it was a personal betrayal when he came out? “He is here, with the rest of us, to relax and have a good time. He comes to meals, he goes and does activities with Isabelle. He is _not_ the problem.”

“Is this really happening?” Isabelle muttered under her breath, so quietly that only Alec heard. He just shook his head wordlessly, unable to wrap his mind around a more coherent response. 

Robert’s teeth gritted together with an audible _clack_ , and then he stood up without another word and simply walked away.

Alec and Izzy glanced at each other, then both turned back almost as one to stare at their mother. Alec could feel his eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hairline, and he desperately tried to collect his jaw from off the floor.

Maryse just looked abruptly and comprehensively tired, as though she’d had a long and trying day even though it was barely nine in the morning. “We’re _not_ leaving,” she repeated for Alec and Izzy’s benefit, much more quietly now that it was no longer an argument. “Even if your father decides to go home, I’d like to stay here with you two. These past few weeks have been…” She let out a long sigh through her nose. “Better than I’ve felt in years.”

“We love you, Mom,” Izzy said softly, looking a little bit awed. Maryse smiled at her, just a little bit.

“I love you, too,” she said, then glanced at Alec. “I really mean that. I know I haven’t been…”

“It’s okay,” Alec said, and was surprised to find that he meant it. 

“It’s not yet, but I’d like to think it could be,” his mother replied frankly, and then shook her head slightly, sitting up a bit as a waiter finally, _finally_ came to offer Alec some coffee. He didn’t think he’d ever needed a cup of coffee more in his _life_.

Breakfast managed, somehow, to be almost pleasant after that. Robert didn’t come back, but that wasn’t exactly a hardship at the moment as far as anyone else was concerned. Alec drank coffee and ate pretentiously plated eggs benedict and marvelled at the revelation and reminder that there were people in his corner.

—

The summer wore on, June melting into July, and more and more often as it did the afternoons would bring with them sudden, sharp rainstorms, with sheets of pelting rain that hit as hard as hail but vanished within ten minutes. There were hazy, drizzly days too, but Alec found he much preferred the shorter storms: they were intense and somehow vibrant, and they chased him indoors in a way that sent a delicious crackle of excitement through him every time, an almost childlike glee.

Magnus, though, preferred the days full of a slower, softer drizzle.

“Oh, Alexander,” he sighed. The light in his room was gray and soft, with the humidity of the day seeping in through the screens on the windows, and Alec was pressing kisses to his collarbone. That collarbone, he had decided some weeks ago, was one of his favorite parts of Magnus’ body; he loved the jut of it, often with necklaces dripping off, and he loved the way Magnus reacted when he nipped and lapped and kissed at it. They were moving together softly, slowly, the day too lazy to do anything too athletic; they’d danced earlier, like they did every day, but they’d both been unable to bring themselves to do anything but waltz slowly, just like they had for their very first lesson. They danced to the same song, even, that woman’s voice softly singing, _I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…_

Eventually they got up the gumption to be a little more active — just a _little_ ; just enough that they could both come sighing into each other’s mouths.

They laid together for what felt like hours, afterwards, without even saying anything. Alec’s thoughts drifted slowly, his brain muzzy, as he stared up at the ceiling; beside him, Magnus was humming something soft and tuneless. 

“You told me once you’d been dancing since before you could walk,” Alec said at length, and Magnus almost jumped when he broke the silence. Alec turned to face him, curling into his chest just a little bit, resting one hand on his sternum and tapping lightly even as he peeked up from under his eyelashes to watch the play of emotions across Magnus’ face. “Who taught you?”

Magnus hesitated only a moment before he softly said, “My mother.”

“I’ve never heard you talk about your family,” Alec murmured, tone a bit cautious. Generally, he knew, when people didn’t talk about something like that, there was a reason. Beneath the hand Alec had left laying on his chest, Magnus hummed softly, a sort of noncommittal sound.

“There’s not a lot to talk about,” he said. “Or, well, there is, but it doesn’t make for the best conversation. Not the kind of thing people like to hear around the water cooler.”

As he’d suspected. And Magnus was carefully talking around it in such a considerate way; not outright telling Alec not to ask, just acknowledging that it was a painful topic, setting that as a boundary.

“If you want to tell me,” Alec told him softly, leaning up slightly to meet his eyes, “or even if you just don’t mind, then I want to hear about it.” 

Magnus’ breath hitched audibly, but his face was twisted into a wry, affectionate smile. “You’re something else, Alexander Lightwood,” he said quietly, brushing a hand through Alec’s hair. Then his smile dropped away, and he sighed. “Are you sure you want to hear it? I don’t want to scare you off.”

“Magnus,” Alec told him very seriously, “I honestly don’t think that’s possible at this point. You could tell me you were from — fucking Mars, or something, and it wouldn’t scare me off.”

Magnus chuckled. “No, no, not from Mars.” He gusted out a sigh, turning his head a little to look right into Alec’s eyes. He was visibly a little hesitant, a little nervous, but there was also something open and warm in his eyes that made Alec feel warm.

“Well,” Magnus said slowly, “if you’re sure…”

“I am. I… I want to know everything about you.” Alec bit his lip; that had sounded very teenaged, hadn’t it? Still. It was _true_. And Magnus seemed to like it when he was blunt like that.

There was only one more moment of hesitation, and then Magnus took a deep breath and started talking.

“My mother died when I was six,” he said softly. “Suicide. And her husband — I thought of him as my father at the time, I didn’t know until later that he wasn’t my biological father — he was different after that. He blamed me.”

Alec frowned. “What? Why? How?”

“She’d been depressed for years,” Magnus explained. “It started out as postpartum, I think, but then it just… kept going. It turned out that she had been… that my, I think of him as my sperm donor, but my _biological_ father had raped her. My stepfather, her husband, didn’t find out until she died; she left him a letter.”

“But that’s… how on Earth could that have been _your_ fault?”

“He wasn’t in his right mind. His wife had just died.” Magnus let out a soft sigh. “I was the closest available connection to the man who was _really_ responsible, so he took it out on me. He tried to… For a while it was just neglect, or occasionally he’d slap me around a little, but eventually he tried to kill me.”

Horrified, Alec propped himself up a little on one elbow, scanning over Magnus’ face, eyes wide. “ _Magnus_.”

“Shh, I’m okay,” Magnus reassured him, smiling wryly. “Obviously, it didn’t take. He was drunk at the time, I was able to wriggle out of his hold. He’d been chasing me up the stairs, and when I got away, he lost his balance, and…”

“Did he die?” 

“Yes.”

“Good,” Alec said fiercely, then blanched, shocked at himself. “God, I’m so sorry, what a horrible to thing to say. I just — I can’t believe someone would try to… And you said he was hitting you before that?”

“For several months, yeah,” Magnus said. He didn’t appear too offended or affronted by what Alec had said, though he also didn’t quite seem to echo the sentiment. “Anyway, after that I went into the foster system for a while. No one could find my biological father, not that I wanted them to. I eventually learned his name, from some of my mom’s old journals — she’d known him, I suppose, before — and I looked him up. He’s a real piece of work.”

“So you grew up in foster care?” Alec asked. He knew a little bit about that — Jace, his best friend, his almost-brother, had briefly been in the system a few years back, before eventually going to live with a woman who’d been determined to be his biological grandmother. Still, Jace’s situation had been pretty atypical; he’d only been in foster care for a few strange months, but even that had taken a toll on him. 

“Yes. It wasn’t all bad; I ended up with some really good people, in the end, and some of the other kids I lived with or met through the system are some of my best friends now. They’d love you,” he added a little more lightly, twirling a strand of Alec’s hair around one finger. “Raphael especially, I think; when you get grumpy, you remind me of him _so_ much.”

“I’d like to meet them,” Alec blurted, before he could stop himself, and then immediately wanted to hit himself in the head. Stupid. So _stupid._ First ‘I carried a keg,’ and now this?

He and Magnus had been dancing — hah — around the subject of the real world all summer. For fuck’s sake, they hadn’t even exchanged _phone numbers_. When Alec had offered, weeks and weeks ago now, Magnus had just waved him off. _We don’t need to,_ he’d said, _you know where to find me whenever you want_ , and it was _true_ , but that didn’t mean that Alec couldn’t tell that what he was really saying was _This isn’t permanent._

No matter how much Alec _wanted_ it to be. No matter that, more and more with each passing day, when he lost himself in little daydreams about the future, instead of being him alone in some apartment somewhere or with some faceless fantasy guy, he saw Magnus, always Magnus: Magnus dancing with him in a brightly-lit kitchen and Magnus bringing him coffee while he studied, Magnus slipping into bed next to him late at night with New York shining in the window and Magnus curled up with him on the couch doing nothing, Magnus, Magnus, _Magnus._

Instead he got Magnus here, like this: curled up in his little one-room cabin in the staff quarters, with rain pattering on the corrugated tin roof, playing with his hair. And it was amazing, it was wonderful, Alec wouldn’t trade it for the world. But he wanted _more_. God, he realized, squeezing his eyes shut and turning his head away so he wouldn’t have to watch Magnus shut down and retract, he wanted _so much more_. So much more than even he had realized.

Magnus didn’t say anything, and in the silence the sound of the rain seemed to grow impossibly loud. But he didn’t move away, either, or stop playing with Alec’s hair. He breathed out a low, slow sigh, and Alec almost startled when he felt a kiss to his forehead, soft and cautious.

“I’d like that too,” Magnus admitted, so quietly it was almost lost under the sound of the rain, and Alec opened his eyes in disbelief.

“You,” he almost choked, his heart suddenly thundering in his ears, “you would?”

Magnus nodded slowly, looking well aware that he was leading them in a direction they’d been avoiding even thinking about, biting his lip. He’d pulled away after pressing that kiss to Alec’s forehead and now he was several inches away, a distance that suddenly felt as wide as anything.

“You’re from Manhattan, right?” he asked. “You’ve mentioned it a couple of times.”

Hope flared in Alec’s chest. “Yeah,” he said. “You?”

“Brooklyn.” Magnus’ smile was lopsided and small and so breathtaking that Alec almost lost his train of thought completely. “Not too far to give it a try, you think?”

“Magnus, are,” he had to sit up all the way now, had to put some distance between them so he could search Magnus’ face properly, look for any sign of uncertainty or doubt, “are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You’d — with me? You’d want to —?”

“Alexander,” Magnus interrupted him, his voice warm and sure and just a little bit amused, in that way that said _you’re so ridiculous but it’s so cute,_ “yes.”

“Oh. Well.” God, what did you _say_ to that? Alec felt like he was flying, suddenly, soaring a mile off the ground. “Good, becuase I — just thinking about leaving you at the end of the summer was already driving me insane. When my dad said he wanted us to leave early, I…” He trailed off, unable to even complete the thought.

“I know,” Magnus said, his voice much more serious than it had been just moments before. He bit his lip, and quietly added, “When I saw you the first time, in the barn, that was — that was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He paused. “Maybe ever.”

“ _Magnus_ ,” Alec whispered, his heart feeling incredibly full, and suddenly he couldn’t help it anymore; he leaned down to kiss him, because he felt like he couldn’t possibly do anything else.

They curled into each other, the kiss sweet and slow, but deep; Alec tried so hard to pour everything into it, everything he had ever wanted to say to Magnus and not quite been able to, everything he knew he shouldn’t say yet but couldn’t stop himself from thinking. And Magnus returned it all in kind, knotting his fingers in Alec’s hair where he’d been stroking it and pouring all of himself over Alec’s lips, pressing against him insistently like he was trying to say _here, I’m here, I’m still right here. I’m going to stay right here._

—

“I’m pretty sure that you’re supposed to be a little farther away,” Alec whispered, unable to stop his lips from curling up in a smile.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” Magnus retorted; with the way he was plastered close, Alec could feel the words rumbling out of his chest.

They were, allegedly, working on the foxtrot, which Alec thought was a ridiculous dance based on the name alone. In reality, more than dancing, at this point they were stumbling around the room while Magnus found inventive new ways to try and cop a feel.

“Oh, come on, you’re not even pretending anymore,” Alec laughed, jumping when clever fingers pinched his ass particularly hard in retort. 

“Again,” Magnus said, sounding incredibly smug as Alec pressed forward into him in response to the sweep of his hands across the bare expanse of his back, “I don’t hear you — oh my _god_.” 

The song, Alec realized, had changed. The jazzy, frothy song that Magnus had been using to “teach” him the “foxtrot” was gone, and in its place, a song about… were they singing about _baseball?_

“Holy shit,” Alec realized abruptly, laughing. “Is this _High School fucking Musical_?”

“I’m surprised you recognize it,” Magnus said, through his own little flurry of giggles. They leaned apart a little bit, distracted, both of them laughing too hard now to worry about getting their hands on each other. “I guess my playlist ran out and my music library decided to air my dirty laundry.”

“Izzy and I used to watch it all the time,” Alec said, as the song insisted that _this is what I do, it ain’t no dance that you can show me_. “I think I still have half this shit memorized.”

Magnus stepped away, shaking his head and still laughing, making for the stereo as though to change the song. Unable to resist, though, he turned halfway across the floor to walk backwards and dramatically mouth the words at Alec: _You’ll never know if you never try…_

Alec was grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, and laughing breathlessly, but he managed to play along anyway, dramatically turning away and looking over his shoulder just in time as the chorus kicked in to mouth, _I don’t dance!_

 _I know you can_ , Magnus mouthed back, grinning just as wide and stopping in his tracks to point an accusing finger in Alec’s direction.

 _Not a chance!_ Alec spun around quickly, shaking his head as he moved.

 _If I can do this, then you can do that —_ Magnus was pulling increasingly ridiculous moves, quick, snappy motions that reminded Alec more of hip-hop than anything, which was a whole universe of dancing that he was definitely _not_ familiar with and doubted he ever would be — 

— _but I! Don’t! Dance!_ Alec mouthed, taking decisive steps forward with the staccato rhythm of the words, Magnus mirroring him until they were almost meeting in the middle of the room, both of them trying to look serious and dramatic but grinning like idiots, biting their lips to avoid bursting into laughter.

 _Hit it out of the park,_ Magnus mouthed, a comically serious — almost studious — expression on his face, and Alec nearly lost it.

 _I don’t dance,_ Alec mouthed back, equally deadpan, and watched Magnus’ lips twitch.

 _I say you can_ , Magnus shot back, one eyebrow raised. They were leaning closer and closer together, almost as close as they’d been before, when they were “foxtrotting”; Alec could feel their chests brushing together with every exhale, but they were both stubbornly keeping in character, each refusing to be the one that broke first.

 _Not a chance!_ Alec leaned closer, closer; they were _so_ close, their foreheads nearly touching.

 _Slide home, you score —_ Magnus, apparently unable to help himself, wiggled his eyebrows suggestively — 

— and that was where they both lost it, collapsing at almost the exact same time in a fit of hysterical laughter. The song went on — _swingin’ on the dancefloor, I don’t dance, no_ — but neither of them was paying the slightest bit of attention to it anymore, too busy rolling around together in a heap of limbs and all but shrieking with laughter.

“Oh god, I can’t breathe,” Alec gasped, and Magnus just shook his head; he was laughing so hard that he’d actually gone silent, apparently so overcome that he couldn’t even laugh out loud anymore.

“Am I interrupting something?” said an amused voice from the other side of the room.

Alec wasn’t quite coherent enough to disentangle himself from Magnus, though he did at least roll over a bit so that he could see who was standing in the doorway. “Aline,” he managed around a fit of giggles. 

Magnus waved halfheartedly at her, still nonverbal, though if the way his desperate gasps for air were starting to slow was any indication, he was at least on his way back towards being able to speak.

“I just came to talk to Magnus about the end-of-season talent showcase, but I see I caught you two doing some very important work,” Aline teased, grinning down at them in a way that completely assuaged any fears Alec might have had about her finding them in a semi-compromising position. “Isn’t this High School Musical?”

“It really, really is,” Magnus wheezed, which didn’t make much sense, but at least he seemed to be working on getting his wits about him again. He wrenched himself upright, cocking his head to look at her. “What about the showcase?”

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about what you wanted to do,” she said. “I assume you’ll be dancing with Dot, as per usual?”

Alec didn’t really know what they were talking about, so he was mostly trying to piece it together from context clues, meaning he was paying more than enough attention to catch the subtle way Magnus stilled when Aline said that.

“Well…” he said, very slowly, and Aline quirked a brow at him.

“Well what?”

“What would you say,” Magnus continued in that same slow voice, very much not looking at Alec, “if I wanted to shake it up a little this year?”

Aline grinned, shrugging. “You know I don’t give a shit, Magnus. You’re pretty much a genius. What did you have in mind?”

And that was the point at which Magnus’ eyes slid across to Alec. Alec had sat up as Magnus and Aline talked, his attention drifting between the two of them to track the conversation, but now he focused wholly on Magnus as Magnus focused wholly on him. Something in his expression made Alec’s breath quicken, and somehow he knew what Magnus was going to say before he said it. 

“Alexander,” he said, and Alec felt his heart thump. “May I have this dance?”

His stomach swooped. The staff parties in the barn had been one thing; people of all skill levels had danced there, and it was all in a spirit of good fun, everyone goofing around and having a good time together. He didn’t really know what the ‘end-of-season talent showcase’ was, but it sounded significantly more serious, based on the way Aline was talking about it, the way Magnus had reacted. And who all attended? Would his family be in the audience? “Magnus, I — I —”

“You can do it, darling, I know you can,” Magnus cut him off quietly, his brown eyes warm and impossibly bright. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met, my Alexander, and you’ve taken to dancing like a duck to water. You should get the chance to show off.”

Alec swallowed hard. God, how did he always know just what to say? How did he always find the perfect combination of words to make Alec feel like he could float straight on up to cloud nine?

“Yeah,” he said softly, and when Magnus smiled it felt like the first rays of sunlight breaking at dawn. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Not to interrupt the moment, but… I don’t know, do you guys think that’s the best idea?” Aline asked, biting her lip. “Normally I’d be all for it, don’t get me wrong, but Alec, your dad…”

“What about him?” Alec asked a little defensively. What the hell had Aline heard about his dad? He doubted his fight with Robert was common knowledge around the resort, but shit, maybe that was wrong. It wasn’t like he spent enough time with anyone other than Magnus or Izzy or his mom to really know. Was there some sort of gossip exchange here? Of course there was, what was he asking, this whole place was full of rich people.

“It’s just, I heard him talking to my mom the other day,” Aline explained. “He was ranting about you, a little bit, about how you were — not taking me seriously enough or something. He wanted her to be angry about it, I guess. My mom shut him down and told him I was seeing someone else, but he seemed pretty pissed.” She shrugged. “I just know he’s kind of a piece of work, no offense. Are you sure painting a bigger target on your back is the best idea?” 

It was nice of her to be concerned, Alec thought, and smiled at her briefly, just a quick twitch of his lips. Nice, but unnecessary.

“Fuck him,” he said decisively. “I don’t care if it _does_ paint a target on my back. He doesn’t get to control what I do or who I do it with. Especially because it’s just _dancing_ , god, it’s not like Magnus and I are going to get up there and have sex on stage.”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Magnus joked, but immediately held up his hands in surrender when Alec rolled his eyes at him with a smirk. “As long as you’re sure, darling, you know I’m more than game. I’d love to give you the chance to show off everything we’ve been working on.” 

“Everything?” Alec couldn’t resist asking with a slight smirk. Magnus shot him a shocked, scandalized look and burst out laughing again — though, thankfully, not nearly as hard as he had been minutes prior.

“I think that’s _my_ cue to get the hell out before I have to bleach my eyes,” Aline joked. “Magnus, just let me know when you’ve got something, okay? I need to start getting the music and everything put together.”

“I’ve already got a few ideas,” Magnus said, with a gleam in his eye that had Alec slightly nervous. “Once I pick one, you’ll be the first to know, my dear.”

“Sounds good,” she shot back, laughing, already on her way out the door. When it banged shut behind her, Magnus immediately got to his feet to go and fuss with the stereo, which at some point had slipped from High School Musical to smooth R&B. Magnus, Alec thought fondly, was nothing if not unpredictable. The music paused, and Magnus hunched over his phone where it was plugged into the aux cord, humming faintly. Alec watched until he almost had to look away.

“You really want to do this?” he asked softly, his voice carrying across the quiet studio. “You sure I won’t slow you down?”

Magnus seemed almost startled, but he put his phone down immediately and crossed the floor to kneel next to Alec again. “Alexander, darling, of course not. There’s no one I’d rather dance with. No one. Even if we have to tone it down a little bit for the sake of the blue-haired old ladies in the audience,” he added with a wink.

Alec laughed, shaking his head. “Forget them, we should be worried about my dad. Not ‘cause I think he’ll be angry, but ‘cause I think he might have a stroke.”

“Not to worry, I don’t plan on embarrassing you _that_ much,” Magnus said, tipping Alec’s chin up with one hand to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I’d get jealous, thinking about other people seeing you the way you dance with me sometimes.”

Alec rolled his eyes, but couldn’t deny the warm flutter in his gut. “Magnus, literally the first time we met we were grinding up against each other in public so much I nearly came in my pants.”

“You _did?_ ” Magnus asks, sounding positively delighted.

“Why the hell did you think I backed off?” Alec asked, genuinely a bit bewildered.

“I don’t know, gay panic?” 

“Whatever,” Alec huffed, but he was grinning. He bussed a quick kiss to Magnus’ cheek before standing. “We gonna dance or what?”

“Oh, we’re gonna dance, all right,” Magnus all but purred, nearly sprinting back across the room to the stereo.

—

“Are you sure we have to do this _here?_ ” Alec grumbled, but all the affront in his voice was fake, and he knew Magnus knew it from the way he was grinning.

“Obviously,” Magnus shot back very seriously, fidgeting with the boombox he’d brought out with them to replace the stereo system in the studio. The lakeshore was chilly at night with the breeze coming over the water, and between that and the fact that it was nearly midnight, they were completely alone, with just the lights of the main house of the resort and the occasional light on in a bungalow window twinkling merrily in the distance to keep them company.

“Oh, I see,” Alec responded equally seriously, fighting to keep a grin off his face. “And why’s that, again?”

“Something something sand will teach you surefootedness something something.”

“You literally just said ‘something something’ out loud.” Alec paused for emphasis. “ _Twice_.” 

“I fail to see how that’s relevant,” Magnus sniffed, then turned away from the boombox with a grin. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Magnus clicked a button and crossed to where Alec was waiting in a few deft steps. As the music started with a blare of trumpets, Magnus swept dramatically into his arms, and Alec curled his hands around him warmly, unable to stop himself from smiling. When the vocals came in — _uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no_ — they went seamlessly from stillness to fluid motion.

This was a much faster song than they’d previously tangoed to, and — to Magnus’ point, Alec supposed — the sand was a complicating factor, forcing him to concentrate even more on his feet than he did on the smooth, steady wood floor in the studio. But there was something thrilling about it, the strange give of the sand under him and the breeze hitting his cheeks in sharp contrast to the warmth of Magnus’ body as the music flowed into the first verse: _I look and stare so deep in your eyes, I touch on you more and more every time…_

Magnus had _insisted_ on Beyonce. Not that Alec was complaining; Magnus was the one who knew shit about choreography, and it wasn’t like Alec didn’t like the song. He threw Magnus into a deep dip, feeling his foot dig a little into the sand to support both of their weight, and the extra give was all it took to unbalance him on the way up as he tried to propel Magnus vertical again. He stumbled, just a little, enough to throw off the next few steps, and by the time he and Magnus got themselves righted again they were both laughing helplessly.

“Shit, sorry, sorry,” Alec was choking out over _such a funny thing for me to try to explain_ , Magnus shaking his head and grinning.

“I told you the sand was tricky!”

“When did I ever doubt you?” 

“I could tell you were thinking it.”

“Oh, I was, was I?” Alec shot back, pulling him in close as Magnus’ leg twined through his in a quick flutter of motion.

“You definitely were.” _Got me looking so crazy right now_ , Beyonce was singing, and Magnus was grinning with the moonlight shining in his eyes, and Alec thought _fuck it_ and pulled him in for a kiss so suddenly that they both stumbled.

“Admit it,” he said when he pulled back, both of them gasping for air a little bit. “There aren’t really any practical reasons for us to be out here, you just wanted to get me out here on the beach in the moonlight so you could _woo_ me.”

“Is it working?” Magnus asked cheekily, slipping one hand into Alec’s back pocket.

Alec hummed, pretending to consider the question carefully, even as he bent his head to press their foreheads together. “Yes,” he decided, and leaned in for another kiss. _Lookin’ so crazy in love, got me lookin’, got me lookin’ so crazy in love,_ the music insisted, and Alec felt something warm and sure and right surge up in his chest as he knitted his fingers in Magnus’ hair, his mouth parting around a soft moan.

“Alec? Is that you?”

Alec threw himself off of Magnus’ lips so fast he almost gave himself whiplash, more out of shock than anything, and looked around. “ _Mom?_ ” 

Magnus gasped softly when he realized what was going on, and stepped back, trying to disentangle them. It was nice of him, but Alec held his ground, reaching down to squeeze Magnus’ hand firmly. His heart was beating a mile a minute, but that didn’t mean he had to act scared, and besides, after hearing her shut down his father at breakfast the other morning, he wasn’t nearly as distrustful of his mother as he had been at the beginning of the summer.

And then he realized Robert was with her.

“We could see you across the way,” Maryse said, clearly trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Alec could almost hug her, which wasn’t a thought he’d had about his mother for a depressingly long time, come to think of it. “I had no idea you could dance like that! I didn’t realize it was you at first.”

“Yeah, uh, Magnus has been teaching me,” Alec said, glancing back at the man in question and giving him a quick smile, trying his best to be reassuring. Magnus, ever smooth and confident in public even if he did look noticeably shaken to Alec, shot Maryse a winning smile.

“I’m Magnus Bane, it’s good to finally meet you,” he said. “I swear, Alexander is a natural.”

Maryse smiled back, definitely more subdued and cautious than Magnus, but genuine-looking nonetheless, and started to open her mouth to reply. Her husband cut her off before she got the chance.

“I see dance isn’t all you’ve been teaching him,” Robert said, half-sneering, and everyone froze.

Alec looked down and away, a muscle in his clenched jaw twitching, not willing to dignify that with a response, not wanting to escalate. No one said anything for a long moment — not Alec; not Maryse, who looked furious at her husband but didn’t seem to know how to respond; and not Magnus, though he leaned towards Alec and placed his body ever so slightly between him and his father. It was a sweet gesture, and even in the moment Alec squeezed his hand reassuringly in response. 

“Well,” Maryse said eventually, “I think it’s wonderful that you’ve found someone to spend time with, Alec.” She shot a glare at her husband and she spoke, and she sounded awkward but genuine, like she was actually trying. Alec thought vaguely that he must have stepped into an alternate reality of some kind. “We’d better be getting home.”

“See you at breakfast,” Alec said softly, and she nodded at him, swift and almost curt, though she also smiled, and then grabbed Robert by the arm and all but dragged him away.

It wasn’t until Magnus gently reached out to cup a hand around his cheek that Alec realized he was shaking.

“We should probably call it a night too, huh?” Magnus asked softly, and Alec eventually managed to turn fully back to him and make eye contact. “I guess you’re probably not in the mood for dancing after that.”

“I —” Alec tried. “I — Magnus, I’m _so_ sorry.”

“Darling, it’s not your fault,” Magnus said, shushing him lightly. “Besides, it looks like we’ve at least got your mother in our corner?”

His voice lilted up at the end like a question, and Alec nodded, still a bit baffled by that turn of events himself. “I knew she’d been… you know, better, this summer, and she stuck with me and Izzy over Dad when he wanted to leave. But there’s _that_ , and then there’s…”

“Reacting with only discomfort and not disgust when you happen upon your son making out with another man in the dark while Beyonce plays in the background?” Magnus completed dryly. “I must agree. But she seemed nice enough.”

“Hah. Yeah, I guess so,” Alec said slowly, shaking his head. Izzy would be _delighted_ to hear about this, no doubt. But then he sighed and knocked his forehead against Magnus’ gently. “You’re probably right, though. We should both go get some sleep, it’s late.”

“I assume that after that encounter, you won’t be wanting to spend the night at mine?” Magnus teased.

Alec hummed, lips curling up slightly in a smirk. “You know what they say about assuming, Magnus…”

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Magnus complained, the words completely at odds to the way his eyes were twinkling and his face was split by a blinding grin. “I’ll be the voice of reason, though, and say you really _should_ go home tonight.”

“If you say so,” Alec grumbled, but he didn’t put up too much of a fight when Magnus quickly kissed him goodnight and moved to gather up his things.

—

The first clue that something had gone terribly wrong was that Robert didn’t seem at all upset or miffed the next morning. He didn’t mention or even allude to seeing Alec with Magnus at all. In fact, if anything, he seemed downright _smug_ , the way he’d been when he thought Alec was falling all over Aline.

It weirded Alec out, and sent a bit of a chill down his spine, but what could he do? He glanced across the breakfast table at his father and wracked his brain for a possible explanation and came up with nothing, which was, to say the least, deeply upsetting. He looked at his mother, too see if she looked like she knew what was going on, but she kept shooting Robert little confused looks, so that seemed like a bust. Izzy nudged Alec and whispered, “What’s up with _him?_ ” when Robert was briefly distracted by talking to someone who passed their table, so she was out, too.

Breakfast only got stranger and more tense. Robert looked at Alec more than once and _smirked_ , in something that could only be called triumph, trying to hide the expression behind his coffee mug and failing spectacularly. God, this was almost like when he’d thought none of them knew about his affair; he was acting like he was _getting away_ with something, and it was tripping every alarm in Alec’s head that there was.

He should just ask. He should bite the bullet and ask, because not knowing what the hell was going on was starting to drive him insane by the time they’d even finished eating, and so what if he ruined another breakfast by fighting with his dad? He really, _really_ didn’t give a shit at this point. Honestly, he kind of _wanted_ to, because after last night, after hearing his dad talk like that to Magnus, who had been nothing but good to him, who deserved the _world —_

“Robert, would you care to explain what Patrick just told me?” a voice called over the low din of guests eating breakfast, and the entire Lightwood family turned to face Jia Penhallow as she hurried toward them, expression stormy.

“Good morning, Jia,” Robert said pleasantly, and Alec felt his blood turn to ice. This was it. This had to be it; his dad sounded _way_ too pleased. “Of course, I’d be happy to give you my statement as well.”

“I’m going to need a little more than a _statement_ ,” Jia said, crossing her arms at the head of the Lightwoods’ table, as around them the room fell silent in an entirely unsubtle way, “given that Magnus has been here for _years_ , and has never once been accused of so much as coming in to work late. This is a serious accusation.”

“ _Magnus?_ What accusation?” Alec interrupted, staring at Jia with wide eyes before turning to glare at his father. “What did you _do?_ ”

Robert still had that horrible, smug look on his face, and it only grew worse when he locked eyes with Alec. “Two nights ago, several valuable items went missing from my room —”

“Are you fucking serious?” Alec interrupted, standing up from the table so suddenly that his chair went flying backwards with a screech, fully aware that every eye in the building was on him and not able to summon the energy to care even a little bit. “You see me kiss a guy, so you decide the response is to accuse him of _theft?!”_

“He wasn’t working that night, he has no alibi,” Robert said, starting to raise his voice in return. Jia was just watching, apparently shocked into silence by this turn of events; Maryse, Isabelle, and the entire rest of the building were equally quiet, all eyes fixed on Robert and Alec. “And he’s not the sort of person you should be hanging around with, which you would know if you weren’t naive and infatuated. He’s taking advantage of your stupidity, Alec, because he knows he can get you to bend over for him and you won’t even suspect a thing.”

“Don’t you fucking talk about him like that,” Alec snarled, so far past angry that his whole body was shaking. The only thing that held him back from lunging across the table was Izzy’s hand suddenly clamping around his wrist, just above where his own hand was clenched so tightly into a fist that his knuckles were creaking. “You don’t know _anything_ about him, or about me. Magnus has been nothing but amazing to me since I met him. He makes me feel like I’m worth a damn, which is more than you’ve _ever_ managed. You don’t know what he’s been through. You don’t know who he _is_. And if I ever hear you talk about him again, that’ll be the last time you ever see me.”

You could have heard a pin drop all the way in Manhattan.

“Jia,” Alec said, still staring at his father. Robert was growing steadily redder in the face.

Jia cleared her throat. “Yes, Alec?”

“Magnus didn’t do anything. And he was with me, two nights ago.” He paid extra care to meet Robert’s eyes directly. “All night.”

“I know he didn’t do anything, Alec,” Jia said, and Alec finally turned away to face her. “I’ve known Magnus for years. I know he’d never do anything like that.” She looked, Alec thought, strangely proud. Of _him?_ No, that couldn’t be right. They barely even knew each other. She hesitated a moment more, then added more quietly, “You should go and see him. I don’t doubt someone’s started spreading rumors by now.”

Alec nodded, trying not to seem curt — she was being pretty nice to him, considering, and it wasn’t _her_ fault he was still shaking with rage. “I will. Thank you.”

He left the room without looking back once.

—

Magnus didn’t turn out to be hard to find, in no small part because Alec was rushing out of the main building so fast that he actually crashed into him while trying to sprint out the front door.

They bounced off each other, Alec letting out a startled “ _Oof”_ and stumbling backwards before Magnus caught him and steadied him with a firm grip on his upper arms.

“Alexander, are you all right?” he asked urgently, eyes roaming all over Alec as though trying to see if he’d been hurt. Alec didn’t answer, at first — _couldn’t_ answer — and just pulled him into a tight hug instead.

“What are you doing here?” he managed after a long moment of Magnus clutching him tightly and stroking one hand soothingly over his shoulderblade. “How did you know to come?”

“Maia texted me,” Magnus replied quietly. “She didn’t give me much detail, just said you and your dad were going at it and it seemed bad.”

“Magnus, he,” Alec said, choking on the words a little bit. He took a deep, shuddering breath, realizing belatedly that he was _still_ shaking, fuck, no wonder Magnus was worried. “Can — can we go somewhere? I need to get out of here.”

“Of course,” Magnus agreed immediately, and stepping back just enough to tug him away with gentle hands.

They walked in silence, hands tangled together, for a few minutes — just long enough to reach a spot that Magnus apparently deemed acceptably far from the resort proper. He tugged Alec gently to a little bench set just off the path, looking out onto the resort. There were beautiful little garden beds all over, the place landscaped to within an inch of its life, and in the distance he could see the gleam of the lake.

“Alexander, what happened?” Magnus asked gently, taking both of Alec’s hands in his.

It all poured out at once, in a jumble that Alec was sure came across as about half-comprehensible at best: what Robert had done, what he’d said. How now one else had reacted, all of them shocked into stunned silence. Jia, quietly supportive.

“I threatened to walk out,” Alec said, tripping over the words as they refused to organize themselves in his mouth or in his brain, “I said I’d never — and he, and I, I _meant_ it, Magnus, I did. I don’t — I can’t even stand to — I can’t go back and look him in the face, Magnus, I —” He huffed out a laugh, alarmed and a little embarrassed at how wet and choked-up it sounded. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck, I feel like such an idiot. I can’t even think straight.”

“No, darling, no,” Magnus told him immediately, leaning forward and biting his lip, clearly unsure exactly how to respond. “You’re not an idiot at all. Not at all.”

“I can’t even — it wasn’t even me he was talking about, it was you, and that’s _worse_ ,” Alec mumbled back, trying desperately to explain the knot of horror and anxiety in his chest and unsure why he couldn’t. “He — I just lost it. I completely snapped. I would have hit him if Izzy hadn’t stopped me.”

Magnus hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, watching Alec with an amount of care and concern in his eyes that was frankly dizzying. Very slowly, he took one of his hands from where it had been wrapped around Alec’s and moved to brush it against his cheek instead.

“Alexander, nobody has _ever,_ ” he said, in a voice very soft but full of steel, hiding under the surface, making Alec blink and focus his attention in, “ _ever_ done anything like that for me. Ever in my life.”

That couldn’t be true, Alec thought dizzily. Magnus had his friends — great friends, wonderful friends, who were his family. He’d told Alec about them, showed him pictures: Ragnor, and Catarina, and Raphael, and Tessa. Dot, the other dance instructor. Maia and all the others. There was no way that out of all those people, _he_ could mean as much as Magnus’ eyes were telling him he meant, no way that _he_ could have done something good enough to make Magnus look at him like this.

Except Magnus _was_ looking. And there was a small smile on his lips, incredibly soft, even though he seemed like he was teetering on the edge of crying.

And for once, after all of the stumbling and tripping over his own words, even through the horrible feelings and the lingering tremors threatening to lock up his throat and block out the words, Alec knew exactly what to say.

“I love you,” he breathed, and watched the way it made Magnus’ chest catch. “Magnus, I love you _so much_.”

Magnus was silent for a long moment, his mouth hanging open. Alec wasn’t worried, though; he could read the look on his face easily enough.

“You’re impossible,” was what he finally said, his voice sounding suspiciously thick. “I was working up to that. You stole my thunder.”

“Sorry,” Alec said, sounding incredibly unrepentant, and leaned in to kiss him.

It was so tender it was almost heartbreaking; it took a disturbingly long time for Alec to realize that the salty taste running over his lips was from tears, that he was crying quietly into the kiss. He hadn’t even realized the way his shoulders were shaking. Magnus clearly noticed, too, because he pulled away from Alec’s lips after just a moment to press feather-light kisses to the corners of his eyes instead. 

“I love you, too, my Alexander,” Magnus said, whispering the words across his cheek, and Alec shivered, even though it was a perfectly pleasant morning. 

They sat there in near silence for a while after that, just sitting pressed close together and occasionally murmuring something quietly or else leaning in to press quick, sweet kisses to each other’s lips and cheeks and foreheads. People passed by, more and more as the morning wore on, but no one said anything; several people stared openly as they walked past, perhaps people who’d been in the dining room to witness Alec’s explosion at his father, but they kept on walking all the same.

It felt like it had been ages before a quiet voice called, “Alec? Magnus?”

“Hello, Aline,” Magnus responded softly, lifting his head from where it had been lying on Alec’s shoulder.

Aline looked cautious and sympathetic and a little guilty, but mostly worried. She looked them both over, her eyes lingering on Alec. “I’m so sorry, I saw most of that. He… you’re a better person than me. I would’ve hit him.”

“I wanted to,” Alec replied dryly. “Very much. Izzy was the only thing that stopped me.”

“Well, then _she’s_ a better person than me.” Aline took another few steps closer. Her expression had cleared a little bit, but her brow was still furrowed. “Look… I hate to do this. I really, really hate to do this. But I need to talk to you guys about the show.”

Magnus stiffened; clearly, that was the last thing he had expected. “The show? What about the show?”

Aline groaned, rubbing her temples. “After — you know, what just happened, Robert’s still on the warpath. He cornered my mom and tried to argue that Magnus should still be fired for — uh — sleeping with a customer.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Alec snapped, but Aline held up her hands in surrender before he could get any farther.

“You’re right, it is, and obviously she told him so. You’re both of age, there’s nothing weird going on, you’re consenting adults, whatever. But he managed to talk her into…” She sighed. “You guys aren’t gonna be able to dance in the show together.”

Alec swallowed, feeling his stomach swoop with a strange mixture of relief and crushing disappointment. Obviously this was better than Magnus getting fired — _miles_ better, fuck — but his shoulders slumped, and he was sure his feelings must have shown on his face, because Magnus leaned in immediately to hold him close, pressing a kiss to his temple and murmuring “It’s okay, love” before pulling back.

He took a deep breath and glanced at Alec before looking back at Aline. “Obviously, I’m not happy about it, but… I know Jia wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t the best thing for appeasing him. It’s not… the end of the world. And it’s certainly a damn sight better than losing my job,” he added wryly.

Aline nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. I am sorry though, guys, really. If — Magnus, if you still want to do a routine, just let me know, but otherwise we’ll just take you off the schedule altogether?”

“You know I don’t,” Magnus said, shaking his head. “Not now.”

“I figured. But I thought I’d ask.” Aline looked at Alec again, something frank and pained in her expression. “I really am sorry, you guys. I mean, _god_. If there’s — if there’s anything I can do…”

“It’ll be okay, Aline,” Alec said quietly, and was amazed at how steady his voice was. “Either he’ll get his shit together, or I won’t have to deal with him anymore. Either way, it can only get better from here.” 

“If you say so,” Aline said, sounding a little dubious. “I, um, I’d better get back, but… like I said, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know. I’ll be there.”

Magnus watched her walk away, waiting until she was out of earshot before he muttered, “ _Fuck._ ”

The one word had a great deal of feeling to it, and Alec winced. “I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Oh, don’t you dare say that,” Magnus replied immediately, pulling Alec in close again. “You know that’s not what I meant at all. What I said to Aline was true; this isn’t the end of the world. I’m... disappointed, of course I am. But this doesn’t mean we have to stop dancing together, and we’ll just have to find some other time to show off.”

“I guess you’re right,” Alec said, but he couldn’t quite manage to sound convinced even to his own ears.

—

They _did_ keep dancing. Their schedule didn’t change at all, in fact; they still met every day in the studio to dance, and then stole as many seconds as they could outside of it just to be together. Now that things were all out in the open, in fact, they spent more time together than ever, but as the end of the summer drew nearer and nearer, Alec couldn’t ever quite manage to squash down a lingering feeling of guilt and regret.

It was silly, he knew that. What Magnus had said was absolutely right; this was just one performance, and they’d have plenty of other chances to dance together, or at least he certainly _hoped_ they would. Magnus had already told him all about the studio he danced at in Brooklyn, within walking distance of his apartment; whenever Alec wanted to stay over, he’d said, they’d be able to dance in a nice open space if they wanted. They were still together, Magnus still had his job, and — perhaps best of all — Robert had become almost a non-factor. Alec rarely saw him anymore; he didn’t come to meals with the rest of the family, or if he did it was only when Alec wasn’t there, and even if they happened to pass in the hallways of the bungalow, neither acknowledged the other’s presence. They hadn’t spoken one word to each other in weeks, and it was almost disgustingly freeing.

But it wasn’t just a chance to perform that had been taken away from them. It wasn’t really about that at all, not to Alec, which he didn’t realize until weeks after the fact, when he was lying awake, tossing and turning, trying to catalogue the ache in his chest whenever he thought about it so that maybe he could address it and actually get some sleep. 

It wasn’t about the _dancing_ , it was about Magnus. Because of course it was — what else could it be? Alec wanted to move with him, to _be_ with him in public, up on stage in front of everyone, showing off what they could do, showing off that they did it _together_. He wanted to twirl Magnus into his chest and feel his pulse pounding under his fingertips and know that they were beautiful and that everyone was watching. He wanted to show Magnus off, to show _them_ off.

And his father, as a parting shot, had taken that away from him.

—

He almost ended up not even going to watch the end-of-season show at all, but his mother insisted. She seemed to think it would cheer him up, which Alec supposed meant she wasn’t fully up to date on the whole saga of _exactly_ what was going on with him and Magnus and Robert. She kept smiling at him encouragingly, and Izzy kept squeezing his wrist in comfort, and as they settled in at the table where they’d be sitting for the evening — in the far corner, thank god, at one of the tables farthest from where a stage had been set up at the other end of the room, where maybe he stood a chance of not having to actually pay attention to what was going on, what he couldn’t have — Alec started to think that maybe this wouldn’t be _that_ awful. He could just sit here for a couple of hours, and it would be fine, and then as soon as it was over he’d find Magnus and they’d go back to his cabin for the last time before they returned to New York and he had to get used to going to Magnus’ apartment instead.

And then Robert sat down — fuck, Alec hadn’t even noticed him _approaching_ , but here he was, clearly, dressed in a perfectly bland suit and not making eye contact with anyone. Alec had to figure he was gloating, though, here to rub in that Alec wouldn’t be performing. He didn’t say anything, didn’t so much as acknowledge that Alec was even in the room, but that had to be what it was,

No. Alec had made the decision not to give him even one ounce of power anymore, and he was going to stick to that. He turned away, very deliberately, putting his entire back to his father as he angled his chair away with the excuse of watching the show.

Which meant that he actually had to watch the show, but that turned out to not be all bad. Maia danced, with her dark-haired girlfriend, Lily, who he’d finally been introduced to weeks ago now. A little barbershop quartet of gray-haired old men — guests, Alec figured — made their way through a slightly strained rendition of ‘Mr. Sandman’ without too much tragedy striking. There was a beanpole-thin teenager who did a short magic routine, and several of the waitstaff performed a comedy skit, and by the end of the night Alec had to reluctantly admit he was almost enjoying himself. Maybe his mother had been right all along.

The last act of the night involved all of the performers, as well as all the remaining staff who hadn’t performed — and Jia, Patrick, and Aline — coming up on stage together. Patrick gave a little speech thanking everyone for coming to the show, and for coming out to the resort, celebrating the end of the summer season before a good portion of the staff left to return to college, and then a track started up over the speakers, and everyone up on stage started singing along to an absolutely horrendous, over-dramatic ballad dedicated to the resort itself.

Alec watched with what could really only be described as wide-eyed horror, unable to tear his gaze away from the unholy tableau in front of him. From up on stage, Aline caught his eye and rolled hers before winking. But then she stiffened, her gaze sliding past him slightly as her brow furrowed, and somehow — somehow, Alec knew who would be behind him before he even turned to look.

"Who on Earth put you in the corner, darling?" Magnus asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He was dressed almost casually: a loose-fitting red top tucked into plain black pants. His eyes were smoky, and his hair was tousled on top of his head, and everything about him was so achingly familiar that suddenly Alec felt as though he could hardly breathe.

And then he reached a hand out, eyes flashing in the dim lights. “Are you ready, darling?” he murmured, sounding playful, and reached out, ignoring Maryse and Izzy gaping, Robert spluttering, the people at the tables all around them staring openly.

Alec took his hand without even thinking.

They made their way up to the stage, Magnus moving confidently through the tables that crowded the room like he owned the place. Alec watched with something like awe as the group up on stage started to falter in their song the closer he and Magnus got; Jia seemed to figure out what Magnus was up to pretty quickly, because she just rolled her eyes and, by the time Magnus had hopped gracefully up onto the stage and pulled Alec up after him, she’d called off the music and was handing Magnus the mic wordlessly. 

Magnus took it with a wink, leaning in to buss a kiss across her cheek and murmur, “Thank you.” Then he turned back to face the crowd, dropping Alec’s hand to stand just slightly in front of him, addressing the room at large.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry for the disturbance,” he said smoothly. “But I always do the last dance of the season. And this year — though, I admit, I’ve been told not to — I’m going to do something even more special. I’m going to do this _my_ way, with _my_ partner. A man better than I deserve, who’s not only a fantastic dancer, but who has shown me that there are still people in this world who are brave enough and kind enough to reach out and do good, no matter what it costs them. Somebody who’s taught me about the kind of person I want to be.”

He turned slightly to angle his gaze over his shoulder, and he was looking at Alec as he spoke, only at Alec, and Alec couldn’t do anything but look back, feeling his heart catching tight in his chest.

“My Alexander,” Magnus breathed, and from offstage, the music started to play.

—

The song started off with a sweetly insistent piano melody, and Alec and Magnus fell into the dance hold automatically, hands knowing exactly where to rest, bodies knowing exactly how to curve together. When the piano dropped away almost completely and a man’s voice took over, they started to move.

Alec lost track of time completely, lost himself wholeheartedly in the music and the dancing and in Magnus, who was looking at him like his heart was about to burst even as they improvised completely, dancing some sort of bastardized hodgepodge of styles, twirling or dipping each other at random, neither of them really leading. It was messy and unpredictable and it shouldn’t have worked at all, but it was perfect, completely perfect. 

_And if you have a minute, why don’t we go talk about it somewhere only we know?_ the signer crooned, and out of the corner of his eye, Alec realized that they were no longer the only ones dancing. Maia had pulled Lily into an artless but sweet little quickstep, and Aline was laughing at her parents as Patrick bowed at the waist, clearly asking Jia if he could have this dance, and out in the crowd, he could see people standing up from their tables, reaching for each other and dancing in whatever way they knew how, could see Izzy pulling their mother to her feet and twirling her around, could see everyone flowing together in what little space there was and laughing and smiling. The whole room almost seemed to glow with it, with the joy and the love and every other feeling that pulsed under Alec’s skin when he looked down into Magnus’ eyes and saw him smile.

All around them were the music, and the crowd, and dancing and laughter. But all Alec could see, hear, feel, was Magnus. All of it, everything, was Magnus, just Magnus.

“I love you,” he whispered, a little secret for the both of them hidden under the music and the sound of other people laughing together, under the joy and the motion and the gentle pulse of the lights.

Magnus’ answering smile was brighter than anything he’d ever seen.

“I love you, too,” he said, soft and sure, and as they both leaned in at once for a kiss, all around them the dancing and the music went on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! To be honest, even though it's only two parts/chapters, this is the first thing I've posted in like a decade before it was completely finished, and since all of those old WIPs got abandoned incomplete long ago, well... it was a bit nerve-wracking for me. But I made it, yay! (Don't you just love a super cheesy '80s movie ending?) 
> 
> In case anyone's curious, I do have a playlist of all the songs that either a) are explicitly referenced or b) are what I imagined people dancing to/playing in the background in certain scenes even if it was left unclear. I'll try to get it uploaded to 8tracks soon, and at that point you'll be able to find it on [my Tumblr,](http://floralegia.tumblr.com) but until then, you can find the track list [here](https://floralegia.tumblr.com/post/176108329239/the-one-thing-i-cant-get-enough-of-the) in case you're just curious!
> 
> As a general caveat to all of my song choices, especially here in the second half, I uh... don't know anything about ballroom dance or different dance styles. So if I've picked songs that it would be physically impossible to, say, tango to, I'm going to apologize in advance and implore you to imagine that they're dancing to a different version (a slower or faster cover, etc.) :'D
> 
> Again, thanks so much for reading and sticking with me, and I hope you all enjoyed the ride! <3 I have quite a few other projects in the works, including one 3-part story I'm just polishing up/bribing a friend into betaing for me, which I hope to start posting within the next week or so, so... you know, don't be a stranger!


End file.
